Quixotic
by caribou.and.cake
Summary: A series of requested GrimmIchi one-shots and short stories inspired by fairy tales, myths, novels, plays, movies, anime/manga, history, etc. AU, Yaoi, Polyamorous CH 9/10: American Civil War Era vamp!Grimm/wolf!Ichi
1. An Introduction, Table of Contents

**EDIT 12/10/11:** _At this point I am not accepting any more requests. I already have quite the list so far that I need to work on. ^^' I'm very sorry if this disappoints any of you and I didn't want to have to do this, really I didn't. But~ I most likely will start accepting them again sometime in the future._

A series of requested GrimmIchi (or IchiGrimm, GrimmIchiOthers) one-shots and short stories based off of fairy tales, myths, novels, plays, movies, anime/manga, historical etc. AU, Yaoi, Polyamorous CH One: Just the introduction and rules.

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><p><strong>Quixotic<strong>

An Introduction

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><p>Hello there! Oh, I've been wanting to do this for so long, ever since I saw an author do a request series for LBeyond Birthday in the Death Note fandom. Okay, so even though I'm pretty sure this is against the rules of the site, this chapter will just be the rules of what requests should consist of. But then again, what do I care about the rules considering you're not supposed to even write smut here at all? And this is also my way of thanking those who encouraged me to keep writing. :)

Anyway...

This series is request-based, meaning all short stories and one-shots will have been requested by a reviewer.

The main pairing is GrimmIchi, in no apparent order. You can request that Grimmjow be seme or uke, and vice-versa.

**Threesomes /Polyamorous** are also accepted, but they _must _include both Grimmjow and Ichigo.

You may also request that another character take up another role, like if you wish for Aizen to play the villain or Shirosaki to play another love interest.

Lemons and/or limes can be included or excluded. Please, please make sure to specify what you would like in your request.

All of the stories will be based off of an already existing media, or they may be strictly historical. The accepted ones, their rules, and examples are listed below. **_YOU _pick the media in your request. **

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><p><strong>Fairy Tales<strong>  
>Any fairy tale that you fancy may be requested. Examples of this may be, but are not limited to, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, Snow White, Hansel and Gretel, Little Red Riding Hood, the Goose Girl etc. Specify which character you want to play the characters in the tale.<p>

_Example:_  
>A GrimmIchi based off of Snow White, with Grimmjow as Snow White, Ichigo as Prince Charming, Aizen as the Evil Queen, and the mod souls as the Seven Dwarves. Lemon featuring Ichigo as seme and Grimmjow as uke.<p>

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><p><strong>Myths (can also be referred to as folk tales)<strong>  
>Any myth or folk tale from <em>any <em>culture, tribe, country, etc. Examples of this could be Eros and Psyche, Tanabata, Isis and Osiris, and so on and so forth. Again, tell me who's going to take which role.

_Example:_  
>A GrimmIchi based off of Isis and Osiris, with Ichigo as Isis and Grimmjow as Osiris. Lime featuring Ichigo as uke and Grimmjow as seme.<p>

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><p><strong>Novels<strong>  
>These can be classic novels or newer ones, but please do not expect me to read a 5,000 page book so that I can write the one-shot. However, I have read a fair amount, and if I haven't, then I hope there's a movie based off of it. :P Anyway, examples of this could be Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Twilight (yes, I will take a stab at it), or the Hunger Games. This is different because you can specify whether you just want the characters to be featured in the universe of this book (like Twilight or the Hunger Games) or whether you want them to take up the roles of specific characters in the book.<p>

_Example:_  
>A GrimmIchi based off of the Hunger Games, where Ichigo and Grimmjow are both chosen as tributes. They decide to band together in the Game and fall in love. Happy ending please! No lemon or lime.<p>

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><p><strong>Plays<strong>  
>Pretty much the same as novels. If you decide to go this route, I would strongly suggest picking Shakepeare, because I do love him so. :D Examples of this could be Much Ado About Nothing, Hamlet, Death of a Salesman, Exodus, etc. However, the universe rule does not apply here.<p>

_Example:_  
>A GrimmIchi based off of Hamlet, with Ichigo as Hamlet and fem!Grimmjow as Ophelia. Lemon please.<p>

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><p><strong>Movies<strong>  
>Any movie may be requested as long as I can find it for free online. :D Or hopefully I've already seen it. I ask that readers not request any scary movies, because I can't watch them, but vampire or mythical creature movies are okay. Examples include Sky High, American Beauty, the Rocky Horror Picture Show, True Grit, etc. The universe rule can apply here as well, but please be specific as possible<p>

_Example:_  
>A GrimmIchi in the Sky High universe, where Grimmjow can (superpower here) and Ichigo can (another superpower here). They get it on in the janitor's closet, where Grimmjow is seme and Ichigo is uke.<p>

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><p><strong>AnimeManga**  
>Yes, you can request a one-shot based off of Bleach! :D Anyway, please make sure that any animemanga requests have been subtitled/translated/dubbed into English so that I know what's going on. Examples of this could be Bleach, Ghost Hunt, Kuroshitsuji, or Death Note.

_Example:_  
>A GrimmIchi based off of Bleach, where Grimmjow and fem!Ichigo are both new students at Seireitei Academy. Over the years they fall in love. No lemons. Please include a scene where they fight a hollow and Ichigo discovers her bankai.<p>

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><p><strong>Historical<strong>  
>You have to be very, <em>very <em>specific with this one. You may pick any era in any country, I'm a huge history buff so I'd love to see your ideas. Make sure you request exactly what Ichigo and Grimmjow are in this scenario, like what their title/job is and what country or city the tale takes place in. Examples could be Edo Period Japan, French Revolution, Colonial America, or Victorian England.

_Example:_  
>A GrimmIchi set in Edo Period Japan, where they are both kagemas and they fall for each other despite the fact that love among them is forbidden. Aizen is Grimmjow's customer, so lemon between them two please.<p>

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><p><strong>To Summarize, What You Can Include In a Request:<strong>

-Happy/Tragic Endings  
>-Specific Scenes (like if you want Ichigo to save Princess Grimmjow from a dragon or something). This can also include certain sexual situations.<br>- Other pairings including Grimmjow  
>-SemeUke preference  
>- Gender-benders<br>- Whether you would like a lemon, lime, or none of the above.  
>- Mpreg, but be warned that I've never written it before. You can also ask for fem!anyone to be with child as well.<p>

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><p><strong>I do not take requests for:<strong>  
>- Religious tales, fables, or anything of the sort. I will make Grimmjow a priest or Ichigo a monk if you would like, but I will not write a story based off of a religious tale from <em>any <em>religion. I wouldn't offended if you asked, but there are some who would be and I at least want to try and be respectful. Plus I don't want anyone getting mad at me and reporting me for mature content. D:  
>- Songs. Sorry, darlings, but lyrics can be left up to too much interpretation.<br>- Poems. Same goes for this.  
>- Fanfiction. What I mean is that you may not ask for a story based off of another author's fanfiction. I think the reasons for that are obvious.<br>- Any sexual act that is plainly distasteful, like, but not limited to, pure beastiality (hybrids are fine) or non-eroticized torture or rape.  
>- Yuri<br>- Ichigo paired with anyone other than Grimmjow.

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><p><strong>Other Notes<strong>:  
>- Please be as specific as you want. You can outline the whole thing for me if you'd like, or you can leave it up for me to interpret.<br>- Don't worry about being eloquent with your request, just be clear.  
>- I can also do trades with another writer if they'd like. That'd be fun, ne?<br>- Please don't be shy! Don't think your ideas are dumb or anything like that, I'd love to hear your request.  
>- Questions? PM or review and I'll get back to you as soon as possible.<br>- Priority is given to those who have regularly reviewed my other stories, but don't let this throw you off. If you have a great idea, please tell me!  
>- Please understand that I <em>cannot <em>write every request that comes my way, as much as I'd like to. I'll try to write as many as possible, but I do have something of a semblance of a life outside of this. :P  
>-REMEMBER that the theme of this series is that the one-shots are inspired by another media. <strong><em>YOU <em>**pick the media, whether it be a novel, movie, etc.

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><p>Whew! Okay, now that you've suffered enough reading through all of these rules and guidelines, please submit your request! I can't wait to hear what you've got in mind.<p>

Love,

**caribou . and . cake.**

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><p><strong>Table of Contents<strong>

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><p><em>2 - Sky Blue - GrimmjowIchigo - 14,196_

In which King Aizen makes unwanted advances on his son, Prince Ichigo, who turns to his fairy godmother for help. But when all else fails, he flees to the next kingdom, only to then be walked in on in a compromising position by the Prince Grimmjow, whom he has undeniably fallen in love with. AU, Yaoi, Smut, One-sided AiIchi

Warnings: Yaoi lemon, one-sided incestual intentions, some crossdressing, over 9,000 words before you get to the good stuff

_3 - Constellation - Grimmjow/Ichigo/Shiro - 6,661_

Ichigo is an aspiring artist in his senior year of high school. However gentle a person he may be, he seems to catch the unwanted attention of several thugs and bullies, so when the two people he's been in love with since freshman year offer him protection, what can he do but accept? However, he has trouble containing his feelings for both of them, knowing that he can have neither both or just one. It all boils down on prom night.

Warnings: AU, Yaoi, Polyamorous, Lemon (Threesome), some violence, naughty language, vast amounts of teenage angst.

_4/6 - Sacred Part I and II - Grimmjow/Ichigo - 5,375/8,455_

Ichigo is the pharaoh of Lower Egypt who has been slighted by the pharaoh of the Upper region. In order to curry favor, the Pharaoh of Upper Egypt offers one of his prized slaves, Grimmjow, whom has said to be one of the most beautiful and possibly sacred as his coloring likens him to water, which is the most sacred element to the Egyptians. Ichigo takes quite a liking to his new slave, especially after he discovers Grimmjow's unbreakable spirit and heart underneath the rough yet beautiful exterior.

Warnings: Historical AU, yaoi, lemon, slavery, violence (this includes a whipping scene, and no not in the fun way.) Oh, and forgive me if this is not entirely historically accurate with timeline and the like (in fact, it probably isn't.) I'm not a _huge _Ancient Egypt buff.

5 - _Topsy Turvy - Ichigo/Grimmjow - 5,793_

Grimmjow's always been too beautiful for his own good and accursed with a submissive scent so when the big cat hybrid mating season rolls around he finds himself fending off another horde of lustful suitors. He never wanted to play submissive to anyone...but then he meets a lion hybrid while on the run who may just change his mind.

Warnings: AU, yaoi, lemon, hybrids, almost all smut. Also, this is my first time writing both IchiGrimm and hybrids. I hope I don't disappoint! :)

7/8 - _Swan Lake - Grimmjow/Ichigo - 9,738/7,008_

Prince Ichigo is taken away from the love of his life, the Prince Grimmjow, and put under a spell by the Lord Aizen that turns him into a swan by day, only able to turn back into a human when he is in the lake at sunset.

Warnings: AU, yaoi, slight violence, reads somewhat like a Disney movie.

_9/10/11- Borderlines - Grimmjow/Ichigo - 5,633_

The colors of their uniforms aren't the only thing that separate Grimmjow and Ichigo. The fact that they are inherent enemies, bred to hate each other, does as well. North and South, vampire and werewolf, they were never meant to be. And yet, they were.

Warnings: Historical AU (American Civil War), yaoi, lemon, language, violence.

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><p><strong>Upcoming:<strong>

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><p><em>Crave - GrimmjowIchigo_

Grimmjow and Ichigo do it Naruto style. Follow them as they go on a secret mission and feelings are revealed.

Warnings: AU, Yaoi, Lemon, violence, language, angst.

_Two for the Price of One - Grimmjow/Ichigo/Shiro_

Long-time couple Ichigo and Shiro have a dream of landing a duet record deal. So imagine their excitement upon seeing the owner of the famous Kishire Records on a cruise ship. But that owner, a one Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, isn't going to give them a chance without something in return.

Warnings: AU, yaoi, lemon, threesome, language, mostly smut.


	2. GrimmIchi  Sky Blue

In which King Aizen makes unwanted advances on his son, Prince Ichigo, who turns to his fairy godmother for help. But when all else fails, he flees to the next kingdom, only to then be walked in on in a compromising position by the Prince Grimmjow, whom he has undeniably fallen in love with. AU, Yaoi, Smut, One-sided AiIchi

Warnings: Yaoi lemon, one-sided incestual intentions, some crossdressing, over 9,000 words before you get to the good stuff.

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><p><strong>Sky Blue<strong>

A GrimmIchi inspired by _Donkeyskin_

Written for **MaxxieBEYOND.**

_Suggested Listening_:

"Cosmic Love" by Florence and The Machine  
>"Celestica" by Crystal Castles<br>"To Die For" by The Birthday Massacre

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><p><em>"No one will believe that anyone so beautiful could be hidden in anything so frightful."<em>

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><p>"I hate you."<p>

...

Prince Ichigo was pretty sure that he'd gone completely mental. It really only was natural, after all.

He'd been born nineteen summers ago, during the bright, glowing sunset of the summer solstice itself. It was said that this was the reason he was blessed with the beauty of that very sunset, with bronzed, flawless skin and brilliant orange locks the exact color of the dying sun, like summer incarnate.

His mother had possessed hair that color too, until she disappeared over the horizon just like that sun. The thing was that her death had been just like that sunset, slow and agonizing to watch. Ichigo remembered how healers had been paraded in and out of her chambers, anything to try and postpone her descent into death. It was to no avail, and his beautiful mother had passed away in the middle of winter, and he was left with nothing but the cold moon and his equally cold father, King Aizen.

Nineteen summers and Ichigo had never had a true friend. Yes, there were those servants, those fraccion, who insisted on following him like he had his own center of gravity, but they were so vastly insipid that he couldn't consider them being anything close to a real friend. And you couldn't count Yoruichi, she was more of a substitute maternal figure.

Nineteen summers and not one friend, never mind a lover.

It seemed that the only person, or thing rather, that Ichigo could hold anything resembling an interesting conversation with was Tousen.

See? Completely mental.

Tousen was his father's pampered, royal, cherished, blind donkey that the King loved more than life itself. Ichigo was pretty certain that the only thing that his father had ever loved more than the stupid thing was his mother, and ever since her death, King Aizen doted on the stupid mammal even more, giving it everything a donkey could ever want. It could be said that the thing was more of a son to him than Ichigo was.

So this was how Prince Ichigo found himself in the stables every afternoon, when his father was busy, telling the donkey how much he abhorred him. And then he would watch as it seemed that Tousen would understand him and kick about in his pen, hitting nothing but the wooden paneling, braying like he was on the verge of dying.

"I wish you would die already."

Tousen moved his hideous lips back to reveal buck teeth that were spaced too far apart and kicked out with his back legs at where he thought Ichigo was, but was actually the opposite direction of where the orangette stood.  
>As you can see, the life of a prince is pretty boring.<p>

"Er...Your Highness?"

Ichigo jumped a foot into the air, his hands immediately clasping behind his back as a kneejerk reaction. Flustered and heat blossoming over his tanned cheekbones, he turned and saw a petite, brunette male with his hair hair pulled into a high knot on top of his head.

"Uh...hi," Ichigo stuttered, looking over from the curious dark eyes that were raking over him. "Keigo."

As if his name had suddenly reminded him of proper protocol, the man dropped to one knee, one clenched fist raised to press against his heart. His eyes stared at the ground as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Your Highness, His Royal Majesty wishes to speak to you in the dining hall," Keigo announced in a slightly quaking voice.

"Does he now...?" Ichigo muttered to himself, taking one look at the stupid donkey who brayed one last time before running headfirst into its pen's wall and falling onto its backside, stunned.

Scowling, the orangette prince spun on his heel without a word and began to stalk towards Las Noches' castle from the stables.

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><p>Ichigo's father, King Aizen, had a purist complex. The royal had insisted that everything around him be bleached into submission, leaving the entire landscape and its furnishings white, bleak, dull. It was quite ironic that his own son would possess the brightest hair color known throughout the kingdom, not to mention his beloved deceased wife had the same brilliant locks, and he had loved her and thought her to be the most beautiful sight to behold.<p>

Even the garments of this kingdom were stark white. Ichigo had never warn anything of any other color other than the traditional white tunics with black lining. It was utterly depressing.

The prince turned down another pure white hallway, his sword that was strapped to the belt around his waist slapping against his thigh as he walked. He only managed to find his way throughout the endless maze from nineteen years of practice. The doors to the dining hall were wide open and he stepped through, seeing the long table that was usually filled with his father's advisors was barren, save for the King himself at the head of it.

"Ichigo, I'm very glad you were able to extract yourself from your studies to come and see me," King Aizen said quietly, raising a cup of what Ichigo knew was the most bitter tea known to man to his lips.

Oh yeah...he was supposed to be studying, learning foreign policies and all that for when he was going to take his father's place.

"Uh, yeah. You're welcome," Ichigo surmised was the appropriate thing to say before striding towards the table, the heavy castle doors slowly swinging shut behind him. He took his place at his father's left hand per usual, resisting the urge to wrinkle his nose at the cup of tea that was placed before him by one of the faceless servants.

"How have you been progressing so far?" King Aizen did not even look at his son but just continued to stare into his cup of tea as he asked this. His tone was pleasant, mild, fake.

"Well, Gin's been teaching me about the other kingdoms and their cultures," Ichigo offered, wondering why his father had called him here. Usually the man acted as if they were distant relatives and when they did talk, he never made any sense, always talking in circles. But there was something decidedly different about him today...Ichigo just couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"That's very interesting. Would you say you are are ready to become a monarch, Ichigo?" Aizen eyes flitted from the bitter tea to look at his son's mildly confused face. The face that resembled his mother's so much, and somehow surpassed her beauty with the gentle masculinity that lined every plane of his exquisitely carved features.

"I..." Ichigo paused. Was this some kind of test? "I think so," he decided to say, raising his head to look straight into his father's tepid brown eyes. Well, usually they would be tepid, but today...today they were different, but what was it?

"Then perhaps that day should come sooner than when I pass on to the next world."

Ichigo felt his eyebrows raise higher upon his forehead at that. He couldn't imagine his father, King Aizen, ever willingly relinquishing his throne, even if it was to his own son. He felt the back of his neck tingle with instinct, something wasn't right.

"What do you mean by that?" the prince asked, incredulity seeping into his tone but his brunette father just smiled softly and before Ichigo could even blink, the man stood from his white marble throne and was slowly striding towards the long, narrow window that showcased the setting sun of Las Noches, the only spot of color in the dull landscape.

"Do you remember how beautiful your mother was, Ichigo?" Aizen's calm voice drifted over to the prince, who stood from his chair, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. He had always been slightly uneasy around his father, but as stated before, today was different. Something had changed.

"I remember."

The king turned away from the window, the dying sunlight filtering around the edges of what could be a beautiful man, if he wasn't so...dull. Ichigo walked around the table to stand closer to his father.

"When your mother was on her deathbed, she called me to her side one night, the very night she died," he said with such apathy that Ichigo had trouble believing that Aizen had ever loved anything at all. "She wanted me to promise her something and I, of course, said that anything she desired I would fulfill."

Aizen's mild brown eyes locked onto Ichigo's own and the slight, ever present smile on his face fell.

"Your mother wanted me to promise her that should I ever remarry that it would only be to someone who exceeded her in both beauty and grace."

Ichigo felt a great lump lodge in his throat, both at the thought of his dying mother and how his father was regarding him, that _something_ in his eyes sparking an unease in the young prince he had never felt before that day. He swallowed heavily, licking his suddenly dry lips.

"And?" His voice was rough, like it hadn't been used for days.

"And I have come to realize something. That there is only one person who fits that description, the only person that is more beautiful than my departed wife."

The prince took a small, subconscious step backwards from the king, from his father.

"And that person, my dear Ichigo, is you."

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><p>"And then he said he wanted to marry me! <em>Me<em>! His _kid_!"

Huffing loudly, Ichigo placed his right foot that had previously been smashing in a cupboard onto the floor, where it retaliated by throbbing painfully.

"You're paying for that."

The orangette prince spun to look at the person whom had spoken, indignation clear on his face.

She was a tall, slender, dark-skinned woman with dark violet hair that was pulled back except for two locks that framed her pretty, amused face. Her golden eyes were sparkling with amusement, despite what Ichigo had just told her.

The thing was, was that Yoruichi was a terrible fairy godmother. She couldn't even do magic properly half of the time.

"Were you even listening? I just told you that my _father_ wants to marry me!"

"Yeah, I heard you," Yoruichi shrugged noncommittally, moving to the stove as the kettle on the back burner began to whistle loudly.

Ichigo felt a vein dangerously tick in his temple, but bit his tongue. The only person who could help him out of this situation was his fairy godmother, so it wouldn't do to curse her into oblivion. Especially when she could very literally do the same to him, even if her magic skills were lacking.

"Well...aren't you going to help me?"

Yoruichi didn't answer at first, pointing one finger at the bowl of sugar that sat on her counter, levitating it into the air. However, when it was halfway to the kettle, it dropped out of the air to shatter on the floor. Swearing under her breath, she waved a hand over the broken pieces, reassembling the porcelain bowl, with obvious cracks visible, before she picked it up off the floor with her hand.

Ichigo sighed loudly, finally making his fairy godmother look up at him with a slight smirk on her face.

"What did you do after the king told you he wished to make you his bride?"

"I just...ran," he answered, frowning at the use of the word 'bride'. His fairy godmother bit her lip before grinning and taking several steps towards Ichigo.

"Well what kind of fairy godmother would I be if I didn't help my little prince?" she cooed, reaching forward to pat Ichigo on the head like he was a small child or some kind of house pet. He swatted her hands away like he would a fly but she just ducked out of the way, chuckling.

Worst. Fairy. Godmother. Ever.

"Okay, so what are you going to do? Are you going to make some sort of potion to make him forget?" Ichigo asked, leading Yoruichi to laugh at his expense.

"And how, Ichigo, would you suggest I slip this _potion_ into His Royal Majesty's tea?"

The orangette frowned, now seeing the fault in his logic.

"I'm afraid I can't use my magic to fix this, godson," Yoruichi said, a little sorrow seeping into her voice for the first time since Ichigo had shown up on her doorstep, nearly in hysterics.

"So then what are we going to do?" the prince asked dejectedly, tugging at the edge of his white tunic.

"Hmm...well, ask him for something he would be hesitant to give, or something that would be impossible for him to do so," Yoruichi laid a finger upon her lips in a classic thinking pose.

"Like what?" Ichigo muttered, already feeling like there was nothing that King Aizen wouldn't be able to procure.

"Well, I hear that the kingdom's tailor is particularly untalented with dye...and lace."

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><p>Ichigo couldn't believe he was doing this...especially with all of these people here, watching and listening as he made these demands. Honestly, you would think they would show some sort of expression when their kind announced he wanted to marry his own flesh and blood, his own son.<p>

But no, they were as vapid as ever.

"Please say that again, Ichigo," Aizen commanded from his royal throne, looking down at his son from several meters in the air while the orangette was on bended knee by his feet.

Ichigo swallowed past the lump in his throat. He still didn't want to believe that it had come to this, that his own father wanted to marry him, that he was now asking for these _things_. He took a deep breath and recited the line that he had practiced for nearly a day now, the one Yoruichi had told him to say.

"I will consent to be married to you, father, if I could have undergarments the colors of the sun, the moon, and the sky appropriate for a wedding night."

Silence. You could have heard a pin drop in the great room, not even Aizen's fingers drumming ever so softly on the arm of his throne made a sound.

Finally, after several very long moments, the king spoke in his placid, ever-pleasant voice.

"I find your demands reasonable, my prince. They will be ready by noon tomorrow."

There was a sudden choking sound over to Ichigo's left and he cornered his eyes to see the kingdom's tailor, Uryuu Ishida, looking very put out and possibly on the verge of an epileptic fit. He smirked to himself.

There was no way that this plan wouldn't work.

But still, it didn't escape his notice how his father had called him _my prince_. Just the memory of it was enough to send shivers down his spine.

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><p>"Are they to your liking, Prince Ichigo?" Aizen's soft voice asked as the former stared unblinkingly in disbelief at the garments laid out before him. He had never thought that the tailor could have possibly made even one of these outfits by today, but there they were.<p>

Though Ichigo had never had an eye for fashion or clothes or anything even remotely close to that, being a swordsman at heart he wasn't the type to notice the beauty of garments, but even he had to admit that the tailor had done nothing short of a spectacular job.

The first was a matching set of a camisole and undergarments that looked more fit for a female than for him, but they were the color of the sun, just like he had asked, with burnt sienna lace and encrusted rubies and imperial topaz woven into the delicate fabric.

The one after that was a similar set, but decidedly a tad more masculine, with briefs made out of crystalline, moonlight satin lined in the most fragile light gray lace and a translucent, diaphanous top of the same fabric with sleeves that would fall over his hands were he to wear it.

But the last...that was his favorite, though he never would admit it. He had always had a thing for this particular shade of blue, it reminded him of one of the only spots of color in the otherwise drab landscape of Las Noches, the sky.

The underwear could only be described as _panties_, considering the fact they were made out of transparent light blue lace and looked far too small for him. There were diamonds and sapphires that sparkled at him like the jewels they were, and there were white ruffles along the trim that looked like the clouds in a perfect blue sky. The top resembled a woman's corset, with aquamarine ribbons laced through the fabric in the back that would be sure to let his tanned skin peep through should he ever don it. There were small bows and those same white ruffles embroidered on the trim, and upon closer inspection, there was a matching choker of the same perfect heaven's sky shade of blue, with a cameo fastened on the front.

It was a shame he would never wear it, Ichigo couldn't deny that he knew he would look stunning in that outfit.

"I will take your silence for a yes," Aizen chuckled dryly and Ichigo found that the sound created a horrible sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. He only had one last resort, the request that surely his father would not be able to fulfill.

"Yeah, I like them," Ichigo shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I just have ione more request."

"Oh? And what would that be?" Was it just him or did Aizen's smile look more pronounced than usual?

"I want the hide of the donkey, Tousen."

His father's smile faltered and then turned into a frown. For a second, Ichigo was scared for his life. The only other time he had seen his father frown was the night his mother died.

"Tousen is my beloved pet, Ichigo. Surely you can think of something else," he insisted mildly, but with something akin to a dangerous spark in his brown eyes, but muffled.

"Please?" Ichigo's lower lip jutted out and he turned the full, devastating effect of his molten honey-hershey eyes on his father, just like Yoruichi had told him to. And the man could not resist, for the boy looked far better with that expression on his face than his mother ever had.

"It will be done."

Startled and disappointed, Ichigo watched as the king left the room, his long white overcoat flowing out behind him.

* * *

><p>It wasn't even six hours later, right when the sun was setting, the the hide of the old, blind donkey Tousen was delivered to Ichigo's quarters by Aizen himself, unattended by any of usual advisors.<p>

The hide was unceremoniously dumped upon Ichigo's bed by the king, who automatically stalked forward and grabbed his son by the wrist before the boy could say or do anything. There was a coldness to Aizen's eyes that he hadn't ever witnessed before, but it suited the man much more than the usual vacant expression he usually wore.

"Tousen's hide is now yours to wear. Tomorrow we will begin wedding preparations, and soon you will be Queen Ichigo," his father stated, void of any emotion as usual, but still managing to chill the prince to the bone all the same. He didn't even have anything to say about his becoming a 'queen'.

With a quick snap of his wrist, Aizen threw Ichigo back an inch or two, making him stumble backwards. The poor, confused orangette stared after his father as he stalked out of the room. He had never seen him act that way before, not once.  
>"Damn it," Ichigo swore under his breath, going to sit at the edge of the bed, where the donkey hide was taking up a good portion of the rest of the luxe duvet. It smelled terrible, like rotting flesh, which technically it was.<p>

"No luck, I see."

His head snapped up to look at the narrow, long window of his bedroom to see none other than Yoruichi floating in mid-air right outside. Of course she could levitate herself a hundred feet in the air when she could barely summon a teacup.  
>"You told me this would work!" Ichigo yelled angrily, pointing a finger at his fairy godmother who just huffed in indignation.<p>

"I didn't think he was actually going to kill the thing. He must really want you," she said, stepping onto the ledge of the window. Ichigo shivered.

"You're not helping," he said bitterly, looking over to his dresser to see the lacy undergarments laid out on top carelessly, still where he had thrown them earlier. He heard Yoruichi sigh and she stepped down into his room and it was then he noticed that she was carrying a small wooden chest in her hands.

"There's really only one way to escape from your father, godson, and that's to leave the kingdom altogether."

* * *

><p>By daybreak, Ichigo had already traveled to the border of the next kingdom. Yoruichi had gone with him as far as the castle's gate, which she had somehow managed to open with a rather impressive spell.<p>

Sometimes she really baffled him.

Before they had left, she had told him to wear Tousen's hide and he at first had protested, until his godmother had explained that his bright orange hair was bound to get him recognized and that his beauty would only cause troubles for him along the way. Bristling at being called 'beautiful' like he was a woman, he had wrapped the donkey's skin around himself and Yoruichi had smeared dirt on his face. With his body covered by foul-smelling donkey hide, his features marred by dark brown earth, and his sunset hair hidden from view under the hood of the hide, he was unrecognizable.

It wasn't pleasant, walking around feeling dirty and smelling to high heaven, but he knew it was the only way he could disguise himself well enough to get to the next kingdom. Besides, it seemed as if any potential threats in the villages and woods wanted to leave him alone, fearing that his ugliness may rub off of on them. Ichigo could care less and was grateful that people now wanted to leave him alone.

He almost felt a little bad for Tousen, killed just so that he could wear him like a cloak. Almost.

Ichigo remembered from his lessons with Gin that the kingdom that bordered Las Noches to the south was the kingdom of Pantera, but beyond that, he could really remember much else. He knew the two monarchs, the king and queen, were both still alive, and they had two children, one boy and one girl. And he remembered that the kingdom was known for producing some of the toughest warriors, and that his father was not fond of Pantera was all he could recall on the subject.

Yoruichi had put his most beloved possessions in the wooden chest he now carried in his arms. A necklace that had been his mother's and a childhood portrait of his small family, back when his father had only been distant, not completely insane and perverted. There were also some other things in there, but he hadn't checked yet.

What would have been useful would be if his fairy godmother had had the sense to pack him something to eat, or even a canteen so that he could drink from the nearby river. Ichigo was now very hungry, thirty, and tired, but he couldn't stop now. Now that he in the kingdom of Pantera, he knew he was safe.

* * *

><p>Ichigo traveled further into the kingdom throughout the day. The closer he got to the epicenter, the denser the population and the smaller the dwellings, but he couldn't find anyone that was willing to hire him.<p>

He knew he needed to find work, and soon. Otherwise he would surely starve to death, not to mention he didn't relish the idea of sleeping outside. The prince went from place to place, from baker to blacksmith to stable owner, but he didn't even have the chance to plead for a job, doing anything, whatever they wanted, before they shooed him away. Some even yelled and kicked at him, claiming he was ruining their reputation just be even talking to them. Ichigo held his tongue, however hard it was. It wouldn't do to draw unneeded attention to himself. But he had never known the world could be so cruel, and just because his appearance was less than satisfactory.

The prince decided he should probably get used to it.

By sunset he had reached the center of the kingdom, where the castle itself sat atop a small mountain, overlooking everything in the entire land. It took him an hour just to hike up to the large gate, where two guards stood at the sentry, looking down on him as he approached. His legs were already shaking from dehydration and exhaustion and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that this was his last chance.

Surprisingly, they didn't question him as he passed through into the courtyard. Ichigo wondered if the security was just particularly lax or if they somehow knew he wasn't a threat...

Looking up at the castle, he almost smiled. It was much different from the one in Las Noches with its mind-numbingly whitewashed walls and smooth, textureless architecture. It was made of ivory bricks, and there were many different spindly towers and windows with blue shutters, some even open. Flags adorned the points of the towers and they were all different colors and shapes, and ivy crawled up all sides of the beautiful building like a lover's embrace. _This_ was a castle.

"'ey, what tha hell are ya doing out here?"

Jumping at the sudden, rough voice, Ichigo turned to see a man striding towards him and he felt his eyes widening. The guy must have been over six feet tall and he was positively massive, with dark hair that fell to his shoulders and as he got closer, the orangette could see that he wore an eyepatch and had one long scar trailing over the left side of his face.

"I-uh," Ichigo sputtered, clutching the donkey hide closer to his body out of sheer nerves.

"Come on boy, spit it out," the man told him with almost a hint of amusement and even though the prince was slightly scared for his life, he also recognized that this man was the nicest person he had met that day.

"I need to find work," Ichigo blurted, digging his fingers into the wooden chest in his hands. He was desperate now, he didn't know if he could make it to the next kingdom without any water or food. "No one else seems to want to hire me," he muttered bitterly.

"I see," the man grinned manically for a second before reaching out to grip Ichigo by his cloak of donkey skin. "Yer lucky they could always use an extra hand in the kitchen," he said, tugging Ichigo along harshly, making the prince stumble a bit.

"Now wha's yer name, kid?" the massive, scarred man asked, walking Ichigo around the side of the castle.

"It's...uhh, um," Ichigo mentally cursed himself for not having thought of a name to give to people, but to be fair he hadn't ever gotten this far. But it wasn't like he could just tell people he just happened to have the same name as the prince of Las Noches.

"I get it," the man interrupted his stuttering, suddenly stopping by a door on the side of the castle and rapping on it thrice. "You can call me Kenpachi and you'll be..."

Kenpachi paused and looked over Ichigo, every part of his body covered with Tousen's hide except for his dirt-masked face.

"You'll be Donkeyskin."

* * *

><p>Ichigo found castle life to be surprisingly entertaining. Las Noches had been a dull place, but this castle was far from that. The people there were far less reserved and quiet than those of the kingdom where Ichigo had spent his entire life. He hadn't known that there was such...color in the world. Here his hair color wasn't so strange, not that it mattered anyway since he constantly kept it covered with his donkey hide cloak. He hadn't known because he had been practically confined to the Las Noches' castle ground his entire life. He knew next to nothing about other cultures or even their royal families, and he had left just as he was beginning to learn some of it from Gin.<p>

He would just have to learn from experience, he supposed.

People treated him much the same as they had in the villages and inner city. Most ignored him, but others mocked his appearance, telling him what a filthy creature was. Ichigo wasn't used to the treatment, but he quickly got over it. Anything was better than going back home...to his father. And though he ached to throw off the hide and whip out the sword he kept hidden underneath, he said nothing and continued doing his duties.

The night when he had arrived at the castle, Kenpachi had taken him to the kitchens, where the head chef asked if he had any cooking skills. Ichigo had of course had to say no, so he was put on dishwashing duty. Luckily there were enough dirty dishes in the place that it kept him busy from dusk 'till dawn. He knew that he wouldn't want to stay there forever, but this would let him earn enough money to allow him to move onto another kingdom soon. As far away from Las Noches as possible.

Ichigo had been given small quarters in the east wing which he shared with a small, dark-haired boy named Hanatorou, who had become something of a friend to him. Hana was the only one who hadn't automatically flinched at the sight of him in the donkey hide. But he still had to hide who he really was, so he bathed in secret. A fruitless venture, really, considering afterwards he would just put on the donkeyskin yet again.

Ever since he had been given the name by Kenpachi, it had stuck. Everyone in the castle that knew of him knew him by the name Donkeyskin.

Despite the constant jeers from other servants in the castle, Ichigo thought he led a pleasant enough life. He just only wished he could do something other than the dishes. His hands twitched at the thought of drawing his sword, but you couldn't very well just do that in the castle kitchens, could you?

Days passed into weeks and soon an entire month had passed by, and Ichigo's very first day off came upon him. It was just a shame that he had nothing to do except wander about the castle aimlessly. It wasn't as if he could even explore the place, considering many of the wings were forbidden for him to enter, being a lowly servant.

This led Ichigo to walk outside after a while, enjoying the bright sun and blue sky of the warm summer day. He would surely soon begin to sweat under the donkey hide, but it had been far too long since he had been outside, free to roam wherever he pleased (for the most part.)

Making sure his hair was tucked away neatly under the hood of his cloak, Ichigo walked down the pathway that would lead to the stables and the training grounds. It astounded him that the royal family allowed their soldiers to train in the same place they lived. But maybe this was the reason that the kingdom was known for producing tough warriors.

There were several groups of foot soldiers on the training grounds, some clustered together practicing fencing techniques and others on the edges practicing their archery. Ichigo felt a deep, burning ache and he reached a hand under his donkeyskin cloak to feel the blade of his trusted sword. Oh, how he wanted to use it...

As he approached the training grounds, it seemed that the crowd in the middle was slowly dispersing to the sides. Soldiers stopped what they were doing, respectively putting down their swords and bows and arrows. Ichigo cocked a brow, wondering what was going on that would make them all stop.

His eyes scanned over the center of the training grounds, where two people were still standing, having not moved with the rest of the soldiers. The former prince picked up his pace, coming to a stop right behind the line of soldiers to peek through the gaps in their bodies.

There were two men standing across from each other, blades drawn. One was impossibly tall, with a kind of scythe-like weapon that Ichigo had never seen before. His long black hair hung silkily and it looked like from where Ichigo was standing that the man had an eyepatch similar to Kenpachi's.

His gaze drifted over to where the other was twirling his sword about carelessly, but with all the finesse of a practiced swordsman. Ichigo felt his eyes widen at the sight.

And here he had thought that the sky was a beautiful shade of blue.

The man was tall, easily clearing six feet and then some, with corded muscle wrapped around his limbs and chest, which was left bare by his open tunic. Ichigo couldn't clearly make out what exactly his face looked like considering the distance between them, but he could see a strong chin and straight nose, along with plush-looking lips stretched into a slightly manic grin.

And above all he could see a shock of tousled, ultramarine hair, strands falling onto his forehead and trailing down the nape of his neck. If he weren't positive that such things were impossible, Ichigo would have sworn that his eyes had turned heart-shaped and were nearly popping out of their sockets.

Even from far away, the man was positively beautiful.

As if they done this many times before, the two men fell into fighting stances, their blades positioned in front of them. Within seconds, they both moved so fast they blurred with speed and there was a sound of metal clashing together as the sword and the scythe met.

Ichigo watched as they battled it out, the taller, dark-haired man slowly losing to his blunette sparring partner. When the latter gave a diagonal, shallow slice across the other's chest, causing him to fall back, it was clear who had won. Ichigo had to admit he was impressed with the man's skill, but he had noticed that his blocking techniques were a little lacking. It seemed like he always preferred to be on the offensive.

The blunette spat to the side where Ichigo was standing and raised his eyes to meet his inadvertently. The former prince could have sworn that all of his breath was stolen from him as he looked into eyes the purest shade of _blue_ he had ever seen. It was like a jeweler had taken sapphires and mixed them with the stars and then sewn them into the man's face.

A thin, sharp eyebrow rose as Ichigo did not look away, but held the gaze of the blue-haired man.

"Impressed?" he called out in a husky, baritone voice that was rough and low in all the right ways. Ichigo knew when he was being challenged.

"Your blocking needs work," he said levelly, not backing down. The blunette's grin faded from his face, brow furrowing at the insult. Frowns suited him just as well as manic grins, Ichigo noticed.

"That a fact?" he asked, spinning his sword once before sheathing it in its scabbard and taking a step towards him.

Ichigo was about to respond, when all of a sudden a wailing noise cut him off. Startled, he turned his head to see a small, green thing plummeting towards the center of the training grounds at unimaginable speeds.

"Grimmyyyyyy!" the thing called out as it positively rocketed off of the ground and launched itself at the blunette's legs. The man grunted and stumbled back, but raised a hand to place it on top of the thing's head.

Ichigo's eyes were wide as he looked over what was attached to the man's legs, taking in the long sea-foam hair and ornate green dress. If he wasn't mistaken, this had to be Neliel, _Princess _Neliel. He always heard the kitchen maids going on and on about how adorable the little green-haired princess was, and how her blue-haired brother, the prince Grimmjow, was beyond gorgeous.

Everything clicked into place in Ichigo's mind and before he knew it, he was backing away, turning and running for the castle. Though he could've sworn he heard someone call out a "Wait!"

He had just been insolent to the prince himself. Surely he would be fired now. Then the rest of the kitchen staff could rejoice as they wouldn't have to look at his hideous appearance anymore, he thought bitterly before opening the door and entering the castle once more.

* * *

><p>Every day for a week after that, Ichigo worried that he would be seized by the castle guards and thrown out of the place for his insubordination. But it seemed his paranoia was for naught, because no one even mentioned it to him.<p>

He was on his way to his quarters, having just been released for the afternoon from his duties washing dishes. Since he had nothing else to do, he might as well just go take a well-deserved nap. The wake up calls at four in the morning didn't suit him well.

The former prince walked at a slow pace down the east wing hallway, wondering if the cook was going to make anything other than beef stew for dinner that night.

"'ey ugly, shouldn't ya be washin' dishes?"

Stopping in his tracks, because Ichigo knew that whenever someone used the word 'ugly' around there, it was always in reference to him. He turned his head to see three of the castle's guards leaning against the marble pillars that lined the hallway. He didn't recognize them, they were so many guards they just started to blend into one another after a while.

Ignoring the taunt, Ichigo started walking again, past the guards.

"Hey, I asked you a question!" the same guard yelled after him. Frowning, the former prince heard the loud, booted footsteps of the guards approaching him from behind.

When a hand grabbed for his wrist, Ichigo spun on his heel and drove his right elbow into the guard's face, crushing his nose on impact. The guard fell to the ground, clutching his face and moaning in agony as blood seeped through his fingers.

With a cry of outrage, the other two drew their daggers from their belts, not holding a high enough ranking to carry a sword. Ichigo narrowed his eyes at them, patting his cloak to feel the hilt of his sword underneath it, but he couldn't pull it out and use it without killing them.

They advanced on him, one of their faces twisting into a cruel sneer.

"Tch, you're so ugly, no one would even miss you if I threw you out of the window right over there," he said, chuckling dryly.

Well, better them than him, Ichigo thought, reaching a hand under his donkey hide cloak to grasp at the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it and defend himself.

"At ease, men," a low, but commanding voice said from somewhere behind the guards. Instantly, both of their eyes widened and they looked behind them to confirm their suspicions.

Standing there, looking as irreverent and over-sexed as ever was the prince of Pantera himself, Grimmjow.

"Your Highness!" they both cried simultaneously, dropping to their knees. The blunette looked down at them with a kind of bored disgust before bending down to look them in the eyes. Ichigo could swear he saw the two formerly overconfident bastards shaking in their boots.

"Please forgive us, but he attacked one of our men! We were just defending ourselves!" one of them pleaded, his hands clasping together.

Ichigo's jaw dropped in indignation.

"Right, three of you and one of him, and he attacked _you_," the prince sneered down at them while they cowered. Obviously the monarch instilled a healthy amount of fear into his subjects.

"Get out, and take yer idiot friend with ya before _I_ throw ya all out the damn window."

"Y-yes, Your Highness!" They scampered about, picking up the now unconscious castle guard and nearly running out of the hallway. Ichigo watched them go before he turned back to the blue-haired royal, still a little shocked by what had happened.

"Don't pay them any mind. They don't have half a brain between the three of 'em," the prince said, his smirk dissolving into something like an amiable grin, his eyes less like hard, cold sapphires and more like warm blue ocean water. Ichigo found he loved that look, but he was at a loss of what to say, what to do.

"They didn't get ya anywhere, did they?"

Ichigo just shook his head.

"Yer the one who told me my blocking needs work," the prince smiled, taking a few steps closer to Ichigo, so close now that the orangette could smell the fresh, crisp scent of autumn and the rain clinging to the man.

Why was he being nice to him? Even those that were kind enough not to comment on his horrifying appearance or give him dirty looks didn't even speak to him. Well, there was Hanatorou, but he was too nice to be human and from what he had seen Prince Grimmjow was far from a benevolent spirit.

So, why?

"Of course ya go all quiet on me now," the prince shook his head, turning on his heel to walk away. "Typical."

Ichigo bit his lip as he watched the blunette start to walk away from him, and somehow he couldn't stand it, couldn't bear it. It made his chest ache and his eyes burn.

"Your defense suffers because you're always focused on attacking. That's going to get you killed one day," Ichigo said quietly, surprising even himself. But apparently, the fact that he had said anything pleased the blunette royal who turned to look over his shoulder with a playful, slightly sadistic smile.

"Ya care to put that to the test?" he asked in that delightfully rumbling voice of his. Ichigo felt his heart stutter a little bit, but he wasn't really sure as to why. Was the prince asking him if he wanted to spar?

Ichigo felt for the first time since had arrived in Pantera a smile spread across his face. He ached to draw his sword again. He simply nodded and fell into step with the other prince, though it may have been completely disrespectful, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Wha's yer name?" the blunette asked him as they walked together down the hallway. Ichigo hesitated, his name on the tip of his tongue, begging to be said, but he swallowed it down heavily.

"You can call me Donkeyskin," he answered, his voice a tad rough. It had been a little while since he had spoken even this much with someone.

"Donkeyskin, eh?" the prince of Pantera shot Ichigo a strange look, a disbelieving one, but Ichigo didn't say anything. "Fine, I'll call you Donkeyskin, but then you have to call me Grimmjow."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow at that.

"Look, I hate it when people use titles with my name. It's just Grimmjow, understand?"

It was a shame that Grimmjow would never knew just how much he understood, Ichigo thought as they exited the castle together.

* * *

><p>The weeks following their first spar, in which Ichigo had taken Grimmjow by surprise by drawing his sword from under his donkey hide cloak and attacked him almost immediately, proving his point when the prince's blade ended up against his own throat. However, despite being angry at being ambushed like that, Grimmjow had smiled in true delight and declared Ichigo to be 'a real keeper'. The memory of it still made the orangette flush with pleasure.<p>

Ah yes, that was the problem that poor Ichigo was facing now, after the past few weeks.

After that first day, he and Grimmjow had sparred every day since, the royal excusing him from his dishwashing duties, without any complaints from the other kitchen servants of course. Though Ichigo had to turn a deaf ear to the whispers about him and the outright name-calling and jeers. But still, he couldn't help but think that some of them might have basis in reality. Like how Grimmjow was just taking pity upon him because he was such a repulsive-looking creature.

He would walk beside the prince and see the disgusted looks he would get and the muttered curses on him for ever soiling their monarch's air by standing with fifty feet of them. Grimmjow would manage to shut them up with a fierce glare, but it only made Ichigo feel worse. Some days he wanted to tear off the wretched donkey hide and wash his face free of the dirt smudged on there and show everyone that he was not who they thought he was.

But he didn't. He couldn't, because the news would spread across the border, to the next kingdom, to Las Noches, to the castle, to his father.

It was depressing for Ichigo to realize this, that he could never ever show his true self to anyone in this kingdom because of that fact. That he could never truly be himself with the man he had fallen in love with.

He didn't know exactly how or when it happened. Maybe when Grimmjow's sword had been pressed to his throat, or maybe when Grimmjow sent a vicious glare to anyone that dared to speak ill of him. But if he were a betting man, he would put all of his money on the very first time he had locked eyes with Grimmjow, when those aquamarine, soul-splitting eyes didn't look at him with disgust or pity, but interest, like he was a human being.

Four weeks and two days later it was a feast day, meaning that the food had all been prepared the day previous and Ichigo's assistance wouldn't be needed until tomorrow, after the last person had stumbled into bed. Then he would nearly suffocate under a mountain of dirty dishes.

Now the thing was, was that he was given the day off to celebrate the feast with the other inhabitants of the castle. However, Ichigo had decided he would much rather stay in his quarters for the evening and enjoy a much-needed good night's sleep. Besides, it wasn't as if there was anything for him at the feast except more cruel taunts and maybe a black eye if someone had too much to drink.

So stay in his quarters he would.

However as soon as he laid his head on his pillow, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. The noise from the dining hall drifted up and was far too loud to allow him any rest.

Sighing, he sat up and looked around his bedroom, seeing Hanatorou's empty bed beside him, the sink and mirror, and the dresser which had the two bottom drawers reserved for him. Looking around him, almost as if he wouldn't be able to tell someone else was in his very small room, he moved his hand to push back the hood of the donkey hide cloak, revealing his bright, orange hair.

It was longer now, reaching down to barely brush against his shoulders, and was getting a bit of a nuisance to hide, but he couldn't very well ask anyone to cut it for him.

Maybe if the circumstances were different, Grimmjow would know that he had orange hair and maybe the other prince would admire it, just as Ichigo admired Grimmjow's teal locks.

But it was of no use to think about it now, because the prince of Pantera would never see him in that light. Never.

An idea occurred to Ichigo and he nearly smiled as he slipped his hands under the cloak and threw it off of him, exposing his bare chest under the donkey hide and the thin pair of leggings that he wore underneath. He always felt so free without the horrible, repulsive thing on him.

Standing from his bed, Ichigo made his way over to the sink and the small, dusty mirror above it. In that mirror he could see his reflection, marred by the dirt he smeared onto there everyday. It seemed that the people in the castle thought this was because he wanted to hide his ugliness. Hah.

He dipped his hands into the already waiting water, cupping them together and bringing the cold liquid to his face, letting the water run in trickles down his neck and shoulders as he scrubbed at his face. He had almost forgotten what it looked like underneath the grime. He washed it all away, bringing forth the face that had caused his own father to want to marry him.

He smiled again at his reflection, enjoying the purely superficial feeling of knowing that he wasn't hideous, that he was considered beautiful. His skin hadn't lost any of that bronzed luster since he had started caking his face with dirt, a miracle in itself.

Perhaps it was the months of concealing himself in ugliness that made Ichigo greedy for more beauty or perhaps it was something else, some sort of instinct, that made him do what he did next.

Feeling his heart thrum in anticipation, Ichigo approached his dresser, nearly ripping the bottom drawer out of the thing in his haste. He threw aside the various pairs of leggings he kept in there until his hand brushed against something hard and smooth. Grasping it in his hands, he brought the small wooden chest out of the drawer, flipping it open to reveal its contents.

Just as they were the day he had left Las Noches, his mother's necklace and the family portrait was still laying there, over a small bundle of fabrics. Reaching in almost hesitantly, Ichigo grabbed the fabric the color of the purest blue sky and lifted it out of the chest. It was the panties and matching corset he had received just hours before he had fled from his father.

They were just as beautiful as he remembered. Sapphire and diamonds inlaid in the thin, delicate light blue lace, aquamarine ribbons and bows and virgin white ruffles lining it all, making the outfit look like heaven itself.

He had never worn any of the garments he had requested his father have mine, for not only would it be a little strange for poor little Hanatorou to see but he had never really thought of them. His thoughts had almost been completely consumed by one royally blue prince.

A frown marring his features for a brief second at the thought of the man for whom his love would never be reciprocated, Ichigo stood from his place kneeling on the floor. His hands almost subconsciously went to the button of his leggings, undoing them so that he could easily slide them down his long, toned legs. They hit the floor without a sound and he stepped out of them, now completely nude.

The first item he slid on were the panties that came to rest dangerously on the cusp of his backside, flesh spilling out from the bottom lining of ruffles as they didn't cover him all the way. He found that he loved the way the things were so tight on him, almost fondling his male member, cradling it against his body.

He untied the ribbons on the corset as fast as he could, taking care not to rip the delicate thing. Then he slid his arms through the thin straps, reaching back to hook the several clasps on the back. Ichigo then went about tying the ribbons behind him as tight as he could stand, enjoying the way it sucked in his waist, creating an enticing curve leading to his rear.

Once he was done tying the last bit of ribbon into what he hoped was a perfect, full bow, he leaned over and snatched the matching cameo choker from the chest. The orangette fastened that around his neck as well and there was something about the tight confines of all three things that made him feel delicious.

Ichigo stood in front of the mirror, admiring the way the corset smoothed him out in all the right places. If it weren't for the apparent lack of breasts, he might be able to pass for a woman.

He wished Grimmjow could see him like this.

At the thought of the devilishly handsome, heartbreaking man that Ichigo had lost his entire heart to, he moaned aloud. Both from the sudden ache in his chest and the ache now in his groin. He wouldn't deny it, now that he had the outfit on he was too turned on to be true. And here, in the privacy of this room, he didn't have to feel emasculated by that fact.

Almost in a daze, Ichigo stumbled over to his bed, collapsing onto the uncomfortable mattress on his back. He sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as he slid one of his hands up his chest, feeling his heated skin underneath the thin fabric. Then he cupped himself through the lace of the panties, relishing in the delicious feeling. It had been a long while since he had done this, but oh how he wished...

How he wished that Grimmjow would-

"'ey, Donkeyskin!" The door flew open. "I'm fucking bored, let's...let's..."

Mortified honey-hershey eyes met stunned wild, aquamarine ones from across the room. Ichigo was too shocked and embarrassed to do anything, not even move his hands, as the prince of Pantera, Grimmjow, stood not ten feet away from him.

"D-donkeyskin?" Grimmjow gasped, the heavy, wooden door shutting closed behind him as he let go of it. Ichigo's heart thumped a million miles a minute as he struggled to think of something to say, something to do.

"I-I think you have the w-wrong room," he stuttered out, hoping that Grimmjow would think he had just gone into the wrong room to find some orange-haired kid dressed in panties and a corset on the verge of pleasuring himself.  
>Grimmjow's shocked look receded a bit and he lifted one thin, sharp eyebrow.<p>

"Bullshit."

"Wha..?"

"That's bullshit, I know that's you Donkeyskin," Grimmjow nearly whispered, his feet subconsciously moving him towards the bed where Ichigo lay, as if he were under some sort of spell.

Ichigo didn't say anything, didn't move a muscle as Grimmjow came to stand right over him, looking as sinfully pretty as the day he had first seen him. No, actually, he looked better, especially with the warmth swirling in those cerulean depths as his eyes simultaneously darkened and brightened with what looked like desire.

"Your eyes are the same," Grimmjow said softly, staring straight into Ichigo's eyes as he spoke. "I would recognize those eyes anywhere..." he trailed off, looking like he wasn't present for a few seconds.

Ichigo still couldn't really say anything, but he could feel himself steadily growing underneath his hand that he still hadn't moved. What a sight he must be, flushed with arousal and touching himself through panties that were now close to being soaked with his juices.

What was going on? Why wasn't Grimmjow leaving? Or banishing him from the castle for acting such depraved sexual fantasies?

"Why?" Grimmjow asked, and it was then that Ichigo noticed that he was wearing his ivory and gold ceremonial tunic and hosiery for the feast and how well those hose looked on those muscular legs. In those colors, the man looked like an angel sent straight from heaven. An angel that led him to temptation, instead of from it.

Ichigo didn't have to ask him to know what he meant.

"Long story," he answered breathlessly.

What would happen now?

"I have time," Grimmjow spoke gently, but Ichigo shook his head.

"No, you don't," he said, finally moving his hand from his hardened member to take Grimmjow's into his own, tugging it forward until it took the place of where his had been. Ichigo had to bite down on his lips to stifle his moan as Grimmjow softly squeezed. "We don't have time to _talk_," he insisted.

He knew he was being incredibly forward, wanton even, but at this point he was finally being presented with the opportunity to be with the man he loved, and he wasn't going to pass that up. No way in hell.

Grimmjow lips twitched into an all too familiar smirk and he leaned forward until one of his knees sank into the mattress on Ichigo's right side, allowing the other prince to hover over him. He removed his hand from Ichigo's member, causing the orangette to whine softly making him chuckle before he placed that hand by Ichigo's opposite shoulder so that he could be directly over the other male.

"Talk later," he insisted before bowing forward quickly to capture Ichigo's lips with his own. Both of them moaned at the contact and Ichigo brought his hands up to grasp at the sides of Grimmjow's face, sliding his fingers into the silky, blue locks.

After so long of dreaming of this, Ichigo felt like he was biting into a ripe fruit after going years without food, like sipping crystal cold water when he was dying of thirst. He wanted this, needed this, and felt like he might die if Grimmjow were to ever pull away.

A tongue flicked out to lap at his pillowy lips and Ichigo opened his mouth automatically, groaning at then sensation as Grimmjow's pink muscle danced with his own, exploring every inch of his wet orifice. The prince then lowered himself so that he lay on top of Ichigo completely, their groins melding against each other causing him to hiss at the contact. Ichigo spread his legs and wrapped them around the bigger man's waist.

Grimmjow's hands found their way between their bodies, sliding against the lace and satin that covered Ichigo's body. The feeling was satiating and burning at the same time, it relieved Ichigo's arousal and yet made him want more, so much more.

This is what he'd been wanting for his entire life, it just took him until he'd lost everything he thought he cared about for him to realize it.

Grimmjow's lips left his but before he could protest, they were trailing down his sensitive jawline and then down to his neck, where teeth clamped onto his pulse point. He gave a slight yelp at the sudden, small pain but then a tongue was laving over it, soothing the abused flesh.

Ichigo ran his hands down Grimmjow's back, feeling the decadence of the fabrics that made up his tunic. He didn't stop until his hands were over the curve of Grimmjow's backside which is where he clenched the flesh there suddenly, causing the man on top of him to stiffen and pull back a bit.

Oh, yes, revenge was sweet. Almost as sweet as Grimmjow's lips when they found their way back to his. The man tasted like mint and the rain with all the crispness of autumn air. One taste and Ichigo was addicted with all the fervor of a demented alcoholic. And he didn't care at all.

Ichigo grabbed at the hem of Grimmjow's tunic, tugging harshly upwards until the other man got the idea and helped him out, pulling the thing over his head to land in a heap on the floor. The resulting sight left Ichigo speechless, he'd never seen the prince of Pantera shirtless before, despite all their sparring sessions.

It was better than it could have ever been in his dreams. Rippling muscles clung to Grimmjow's chest and arms, but not too much, only just enough to send Ichigo over the edge. And they were all covered in the finest of light tawny skins, smooth and flawless.

He leaned forward as Grimmjow sat back on his heels to wantonly lick a trail up from between the blunette's pectorals to the base of his neck, trailing kisses on the way back down. He curled his fingers into the waistband of Grimmjow's leggings and looking down he could see they did very little to conceal the impressive bulge in between the man's powerful legs.

Gods, the man was like art in human form.

But suddenly Grimmjow gripped Ichigo's wrists, pulling his hands away from they had been on the verge of delving into the hosiery.

"Wha-" Ichigo had began to ask what was wrong but he was silenced with a kiss, a deep one filled with all the burning passion of the sun. It left him panting a little as Grimmjow finally pulled away.

"You first," the blunette husked, sliding back a little on the small bed so that Ichigo was splayed before him, legs still spread open and the front of those blue lace panties now completely soaked with his precome. His erection was straining against the fabric and it rubbed him in all the right places, and if Grimmjow didn't take them off now, he was going to come right then and there.

Luckily he didn't have to voice his concerns because Grimmjow was already bending over, his face coming dangerously close to Ichigo's lace-covered member. The orangette almost lost it when the other man took the top of panties, just under his right hipbone, into his teeth and gently began to pull down. Letting out a small whimper that was decidedly unmasculine, Ichigo watched as his erection was revealed, bobbing forth from its confines, but Grimmjow purposefully avoided contact with it, continuing to slide the lacy things down his long legs until they were completely off, thrown into the same corner as the tunic.

Ichigo, wanting to get to the good part already, reached behind himself and fumbled for the ribbons so that he could take off his corset but for the second time that night, hands on his wrists stopped him.

"Leave it on," Grimmjow whispered in his ear, sending shivers that wrapped around Ichigo's spine and made him shudder in delight. He let go of the ribbons, reaching out for Grimmjow yet again.

Their lips collided once more and this one was almost desperate as they clutched onto each other, fingers melding into tanned, slick flesh. Ichigo groaned as Grimmjow's hands slid down to cup his backside, the steel grip kneading the now bare flesh there. It sent thrums of pleasure radiating throughout his entire body.

It was Ichigo who broke away this time, a trail of saliva breaking from in between their now swollen and red lips to land on his chin. He swept out with his tongue to lap at it before bringing his hands from where they had been intertwined in ultramarinely teal locks to push on Grimmjow's chest until their positions were reversed, the blunette's beautiful head resting against the pathetically small headboard of the tiny bed.

Ichigo give a coquettish smile up at his beloved before gripping onto the hose adorning the man and tearing up with such force that the pliable fabric was ripped into several pieces, revealing what lay underneath. Muscular, powerful legs that led to a place where a male member, already fully erect and even bigger than Ichigo had imagined, lay nestled amongst a tuft of blue curls.

He only hesitated slightly, having never done anything like this in the past, before bending his head forward to give the thick column of flesh a tentative lick. He heard Grimmjow inhale sharply and taking that as a good sign, he kissed the head, running his tongue along the slit that was there. Then he took that into his mouth, sucking gently, like he would a piece of candy, and then descending farther, taking more and more until the head hit the back of his throat, which was still not all the way to the hilt of the decently-sized member.

He choked a little, but managed to hold still. Ichigo looked up to Grimmjow, seeing that those wild blue eyes were practically on fire as they locked with his. He had no idea how looking up at the prince with those molten honey brown eyes nearly undid the other man right then and there. Bringing his right hand to grip the base of Grimmjow's erection, he began to bob his head up and down, the action creating carnal slurping sounds that filled the room as saliva escaped through the corners of mouth, running down his chin.

Grimmjow thrusted upwards every now and then, nearly choking him in the process as he was forced to have more of the flesh farther into his throat, but if the look on the beautiful man's face was any indication, he was seriously holding back. It only made Ichigo want to please him even more.

He was a little surprised when Grimmjow told hold of his own erection and began to move it around in his mouth, the head going to punch out his left cheek before sliding out with a popping noise. Instinctively, he stuck out his tongue which Grimmjow slapped the head of his member on repeatedly before slipping back into his mouth.

Gods, the sounds they were both making were turning Ichigo on to an unimaginable level. His own erection was turning painful and he tried to rub it against the sheets of the bed, but the didn't really work, so he reached down with one hand to stroke himself gently.

Grimmjow, obviously realizing they were both going to come far too soon if they kept going like this, pulled out of Ichigo's mouth, wiping away the spittle on the smaller male's face with his thumb gently. Then he curved his arm around Ichigo's bottom, pulling him up with his strong arms to lay beside him. In one of his large hands he gripped both of their erections and began to pump slowly, which caused Ichigo to moan loudly, his pretty fawn-like eyes rolling back in his head.

"Have you ever done this before?" Grimmjow asked against Ichigo's lips. The orangette's eyes fluttered open, peering up at the blue-haired prince through dark eyelashes. It was those eyes that had ensnared Grimmjow more than a month ago and they very nearly sent him over the edge for the second time that night as Ichigo panted and thrusted his slim hips into Grimmjow's firm grip.

"No," Ichigo moaned, eyes dilated and unfocused, obviously too caught up in the moment to give the other man anything other than a one-word answer.

Grimmjow paused in his ministrations, causing Ichigo to whine in frustration, bucking his hips up and seeking friction. Then the smaller male suddenly found himself on his back, Grimmjow's hands hooked on the back of his knees, folding his legs up so high that his lower back lifted up off of the bed. One of Grimmjow's hands then left his knee to proffer itself to Ichigo's mouth.

"Suck, it'll make it better."

Nodding, the former prince took the long, smooth fingers into his mouth eagerly. He knew enough about these kinds of things that this would mean that he would be the one being penetrated. He wondered when he had ever given consent to that, or why he was so willing to give it up without even putting up a fight. Then he realized he didn't very much care.

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the blunette's head disappear and for a second Ichigo thought that the man would reciprocate the actions that he had performed earlier tonight and his erection twitched in anticipation. However, he felt hot breath pass over that part of his body, only to reappear somewhere close, but unexpected.

He cried out in both shock and delight as he felt something warm and soft trail over his entrance. Ichigo wanted to tell Grimmjow to stop doing... _that_, but at the same time he didn't want to. It felt too good and he felt his muscles relaxing as Grimmjow's skilled tongue continued to lap at him. He continued to suck on the fingers in his mouth, coating them liberally with his own saliva. He clutched onto the rough sheets as if they were a lifeline and resisted the urge to throw his head back and scream in pleasure.

A few minutes later, Grimmjow withdrew both his fingers and his tongue, leaving Ichigo feeling very hot and bothered. He saw through blurred vision as Grimmjow leaned over him once more, one hand still hooked on the back of his knee, but the other he soon felt at the place where Grimmjow's tongue had been. There was an unfamiliar pressure at his entrance as the blunette's ring finger slowly pushed its way inside. It was uncomfortable and amazing at the same time, feeling the burning stretch as a second finger slid in as well.

Ichigo knew he was panting like a dog and his member was straining, begging to be touched, the skin there now flushing red, like various other parts of him. But the only thing he found he could do was just clutch onto the sheets even tighter as Grimmjow's third finger joined the other two, making a scissoring motion that stretched his entrance in a strange but somehow nice way.

"This okay?" a voice sounded by his right ear and Ichigo just nodded, seemingly incapable of speech. Grimmjow gave a few light kisses along his face and the tenderness in them along with the physical pleasure he was feeling sent off fireworks inside of him. He felt like he could shed tears, it was a terrifying feeling, an amazing one. But love was always like that.

Suddenly one of Grimmjow's fingertips tapped against a spot that had Ichigo's vision going completely white like a snowstorm and his back arched off of his bed as an involuntary keening sound came from his mouth. But then just like that, the intense feeling was gone and Ichigo had sunk back to earth, gasping for breath and looking at Grimmjow quizzically. The blunette simply smirked.

"Found it."

Ichigo writhed around as he desperately tried to have Grimmjow's fingers hit that spot, but they were soon withdrawn, leaving him feeling very empty. But then something else was pressed against his entrance and lips found his again, biting, nipping. The blunt, large object began to press into him and Ichigo tensed, realizing what it was.

And then Grimmjow's voice was in his ear once more.

"Trust me."

Ichigo relaxed and looked up into eyes of pure blue ocean water as Grimmjow slowly seated himself inside of him, leaving his entire bottom half thrumming with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Ichigo grunted, the burning stretch in his rear was a little too much to bear, but he would do it. He loved this, loved being this close to Grimmjow. The fact that it was the blue-haired prince did thing to Ichigo that he had never felt before, the knowledge of it sending his head spinning.  
>Grimmjow's forehead rested against his and Ichigo briefly thought that he's never been more intimately connected with anyone in his entire life.<p>

"What's your name?" Grimmjow asked against his lips, the man literally shaking with the effort to hold himself still in the other's tight heat, who sighed contentedly as he felt himself become adjusted to the blunette's member inside of him.  
>"Ichigo," he said softly, never breaking eye contact with the man who was currently inside of him.<p>

"_Ichigo_," Grimmjow breathed, his soft breath fanning over Ichigo's face as he ever so slowly pulled a little out only to slide back in.

The pace was slow and positively torturous, for both of them. But it was so _good_ at the same time.

Grimmjow's hands ran over the lace and ribbons adorning Ichigo's chest and abdomen, admiring how good the color looked against the other man's summer skin and the irony that it would be the exact same color as his hair.

When Grimmjow finally picked up the pace a little, sliding in and out of Ichigo's tight heat, he began to consciously hit the other's prostrate dead on, making the other's eyes roll back and choked gasps of pleasure escape from his pretty mouth.

"Ah, more, harder," Ichigo demanded breathlessly, shamelessly. Grimmjow could only oblige as he continued to sink into the other man, wrapping one large, tanned hand around the smaller erection that bobbed up and down in front of him with every thrust. He began to stroke slowly, not wanting the other to come too quickly, but Ichigo's strangled cries of pleasure and frustration made him pump faster.

Ichigo was in heaven, literally. It seemed like everything around him except for Grimmjow was white, like all he could see in color was in him. Just bronzed skin and blue, blue, blue. His favorite color, the color of the sky.

Every time Grimmjow's member inside of him would hit his sweet spot inside, Ichigo thought he would die right then and there. That's how good it felt. He knew he was close to the edge, all he needed was a push.

Grimmjow buried his face in the crook of Ichigo's neck, pushing his legs apart and as high as they would possibly go so he could seat himself as deep inside as was possible. Then he breathed out the three syllables that had Ichigo plummeting over the edge, the final push.

"_Ichigo_."

He came with a soft, sweet cry, spilling his seed over Grimmjow's hand and he felt his muscles spasm around the other's thick column that was still buried inside of him as deep as could be, which had the other coming in a domino effect with a low growl, Ichigo's warmth milking him of every last drop.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo sighed, feeling that it was only proper as the other pulled out of him, fluid flowing out of him to stain the sheets below him. The blunette prince collapsed next to him, wrapping strong arms around Ichigo's waist and they both closed their eyes, completely sated and content.

That was, until about a minute later when Ichigo's eyes snapped open, alarm clear in his doe-like irises. With a gasp he sat up and jumped off of the bed onto shaky legs.

Grimmjow who had been on the verge of falling asleep looked up at him with confused aquamarine eyes, his brow furrowing.

Ichigo felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest at any moment and like he couldn't get enough air into his lungs.

Someone knew what he looked like under the donkey hide cloak, someone knew his real name. Now it was only a matter of time before others found out, before news spread, across the kingdom and border, to Las Noches, to the castle, to his father. Then he would surely come back for him.

The thought of those cold, brown eyes had Ichigo clutching his stomach with one arm as he desperately sucked in air, but only managing shallow, fast breaths.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he vaguely heard from somewhere in front of him. Large, warm hands came to rest on his shoulders, circling the skin there soothingly.

Ichigo couldn't even get one word out through his pants, he just tugged at the front of his corset with one weak hand, his vision starting to blur.

"Shit."  
>Thankfully the other took the hint because just as his legs were beginning to give out on him, he was spun around and there was more pressure on his chest for a second before there was a loud tearing sound as Grimmjow tore the corset from his body, leaving the ruined fabric to flutter to the ground.<p>

Ichigo took deep, gasping breaths, taking in as much sweet oxygen as he could. He could feel Grimmjow steadying him and leading him back to sit on the bed, where he collapsed onto it, laying on his back and looking up to the insanely gorgeous man he had lost his heart to, worry and concern swirling in those mediterranean eyes.

"Do we have time to talk now?" Grimmjow asked.

"Yeah, we have time."

* * *

><p>It took a while for Grimmjow to process all of the information. That Ichigo had been formerly Prince Ichigo of Las Noches, son to King Aizen. That his mother had passed away and that she made his father promise that he would only marry someone that exceeded her in both beauty and grace and his father had come to the conclusion that only Ichigo fit that description. After trying to make impossible demands of his father that the king still complied with, and with the help of his fairy godmother, Ichigo managed to escape to the kingdom of Pantera. There he had been turned away by everyone because of his new appearance until he came to the castle, and then Grimmjow knew the rest.<p>

Grimmjow had plenty of things to say, including they should go kill that bastard King Aizen, and that they should give a raise to Kenpachi, and that they should have seven kids when they got married, all girls.

Yes, that last one threw Ichigo for a loop too, considering least of all that they couldn't even have children because they were both men. To which Grimmjow replied that he had _ways_ and that he had already picked out the names, Atsuki, Izumi, Sasuki, Yukari, Hazuki, Midori, and Jun.

But of course, Ichigo was too astounded by the fact that Grimmjow was talking about marriage that he didn't push the children issue any further.

The next day, Grimmjow took Ichigo to meet his parents, the king and queen, and when Ichigo went to put on his donkey hide cloak, he said they would burn it and that Ichigo could borrow some of his clothes for the time being. Ichigo almost felt sad when the thing was thrown into the incinerator. Almost. Wearing Grimmjow's clothes was much better, thank you very much.

The king and queen of Pantera turned out to be very kind people and offered Ichigo asylum in their country, to which the former prince refused. He said that if that his father ever came back for him under the threat of violence, he would go willingly. And then Grimmjow had

thrown a fit, scaring half of the royal guard so bad they nearly wet themselves and damning anyone who was going to take _his_ husband away from him, never mind the fact that he and Ichigo had only been an item since the night before.  
>However, in typical happy ending fashion, they were married a month later, Ichigo becoming a prince once more. Surprisingly they received a letter from Las Noches, from King Aizen himself, saying that he wished them all the best and that he had actually married Gin Ichimaru, Ichigo's old tutor, and that he apologized for everything he had done to his son.<p>

True to his word, Grimmjow adopted seven girls from the orphanage, all strawberry-blondes and named them Atsuki, Izumi, Sasuki, Yukari, Hazuki, Midori, and Jun. He and Ichigo ascended to the throne after his father stepped down some years later. They ruled the country with a firm fairness, balancing each other out perfectly, the way the sun and the moon did, always coming together in a perfect blue sky.

And they all lived happily ever after.

Well, except for Tousen, poor thing.

**The End.**

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Well I hoped you all liked it, even if it was very cracky. It took two days straight to write it, I have never worked so hard on just one thing! Oh and I fully admit to wanting Ichigo's underwear for myself as I'm a bit of a pervert, but we knew this already. è_é

Thank you to **MaxxieBEYOND**, **TianaMisoro**, **JojoNigno**, **inominatenoname**, **ArisuAmiChan**, **Silver Eternity,** and **TokugawaSmile**. Your requests **will** all be written for reviewing the first chapter, though I can't say in which order. It kind of just goes along with my inspiration to write what you've requested.

For those who haven't submitted a request, don't be shy! But don't forget that the theme of these one-shots is that they are based off of something else, whether that be a fairy tale, myth, novel, movie, anime/manga, and so on and so forth. It doesn't have to specifically follow the plot of whatever you choose, it can be set in that universe or it could just be inspired by it. Read the introduction again and if you have any question, PM me, 'kay? I don't bite. :D

And you guys can look forward to GrimmIchiShiro, GrimmHime, and plenty of GrimmIchi coming up!

On a related note, a new pairing for me to obsess over is Grimmjow/Byakuya. Sooo hawtt. XD

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach or Donkeyskin.

Quote belongs to the original text of Donkeyskin.

Off to go edit the next chapter of Greek... don't be a stranger and drop a line, ne?


	3. GrimmIchiShiro Constellation

Ichigo is an aspiring artist in his senior year of high school. However gentle a person he may be, he seems to catch the unwanted attention of several thugs and bullies, so when the two people he's been in love with since freshman year offer him protection, what can he do but accept? However, he has trouble containing his feelings for both of them, knowing that he can have neither both or just one. It all boils down on prom night.

Warnings: AU, Yaoi, Polyamorous, Lemon (Threesome), some violence, naughty language, vast amounts of teenage angst.

* * *

><p><strong>Constellation<strong>

A GrimmIchiShiro inspired by _Mars_.

Written for **ArisuAmiChan**

* * *

><p><em>Suggested Listening<em>:

"Every You, Every Me" by Placebo

"Creep" by Scarling

"Blinding" by Florence and the Machine

"Eyes on Fire" by Blue Foundation

* * *

><p>"S-so, I was just w-wondering if you'd l-like t-t-to go topromwithme?"<p>

Ichigo didn't know what to say, he just stared blankly at the auburn-haired girl before him. Her storm gray eyes lifted from the floor to meet his and she lifted both of her hands in a surrendering gesture.

"Just as friends!" she protested, an uneasy half-smile spreading across her face as her expression betrayed her nervousness.

"Oh...oh, okay," Ichigo said lamely, rubbing the back of his neck. Orihime's eyes widened and her smile relaxed.

"Really? You're sure it's okay? I mean I know that you're-," Orihime paused, biting her lip.

"Gay?" he finished for her, grinning a little bit. He couldn't blame her for being a tad bit awkward about it, he had only come out to her and Rukia two months ago.

"Well, yes," she said sheepishly. Ichigo just shook his head and reached a hand out to ruffle her hair, causing her to squawk and reach her hands up to try and fix it.

"It's okay, Orihime." The girl then looked like she was going to say something else, but the bell cut her off and the heavy classroom door slammed shut, making all of the teenagers in the room pause in their conversations. They all watched with listless eyes as Mr. Kuchiki walked to his desk in the front of the room and stood in front of it, slate eyes roaming across the room with a cold stare, the stare that was the reason he had been chosen by the school to be the independent study supervisor.

"Work on your respective assignments until the bell rings. No talking," and with that he stalked around the desk and sat in his chair. Once he had opened a book and began to read, Ichigo deemed it safe to look back to what the math homework he _should _be doing.

However, after five minutes of staring at equations until he felt like his eyes might start to bleed, someone tapped him on the shoulder. Turning his head slightly, he saw the girl behind him holding a folded piece of paper out to him. He turned even more to face the girl, who was looking at him with a disinterested expression and chewing the tip of a pen.

"For me?" he mouthed. She just nodded once in return and Ichigo took the piece of paper from her outstretched hand and unfolded it, facing forward once more. He nearly sighed out loud when he saw what it was. And here he had thought that maybe someone had found him interesting enough to write him a note during class. Instead?

It was one of those stupid survey things that had been spreading around the school lately like wildfire.

Ichigo looked up at the clock above the whiteboard.

_Forty-five minutes left to go…_

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to put off math for a few minutes.

Looking down at the paper, he saw that the survey had been handwritten in blue pen, with little hearts above the 'i's. He didn't even know that anyone still did that. Scanning the first question, Ichigo felt warmth flush across his cheekbones.

**Have you ever done it?**

Twirling his pen in his fingers, he hesitated before writing down his answer.

_I don't think so._

**If you answered 'I don't think so', would you ever if you could?**

_I guess so._

**With who? (Be honest. Your name's not on this, so it's okay)**

Ichigo's eyes flitted nervously across the room, anxiously checking to see if anyone was looking at him, at what he would write down. When he was satisfied that no one was paying any attention to him, and the desperate secret he was about to spill on paper, he put his pen to the line.

_Grimmjow Jaegerjaques + Hichigo Shirosaki. _

**Do they know that you want to with them?**

Ichigo sighed heavily, but no one paid him any attention as he wrote in big, bold letters his answer.

_NO._

* * *

><p>"Earth to Ichigo!"<p>

A sudden rapping of knuckles against his poor head startled Ichigo out of his stupor and he looked down to see a petite girl glaring up at him with perturbed dark violet eyes.

"Wha'?" he asked through a mouthful of french fries.

"Were you even listening to what I was saying just now?" Rukia interrogated, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes!" Ichigo insisted.

"Then what was I saying?"

…

"Hmph, that's what I thought. What I was _trying _to tell you was," Rukia's face softened from an irritated expression to one of bliss, her lips parting into a small smile. "Renji asked me to prom."

Ichigo swallowed and smiled at the girl who was one of his best friends since preschool. Rukia had been pining for the tattooed redhead since they had been in junior high and she had spotted him playing fusal after school.

"That's great, Rukia," he said, genuinely happy for her. Maybe if her unrequited (now _re_quited) love had approached her, maybe it would happen for him…

His eyes traveled across the cafeteria, to the end table where a few people were loitering around, none of them eating, of course. They projected some sort of aura and most of the students stayed far, far away. There were rumors of course, gang activity, drug trafficking, etc. etc. You know, the works. And there were two in the center of it all, and they were beautiful.

And therein lied the problem.

That was the reason why Ichigo would never have some sort of happy ending, never have anything other than unrequited love, because it wasn't possible. Not when there were two, two blinding stars amidst all the bland dross of Karakura High School.

Hichigo Shirosaki, more commonly referred to as Shiro, was ethereally, undeniably gorgeous. He looked like something out of a fairy tale (or a horror story, whichever way you looked at it, he was still beautiful). His skin was pure white and flawless, with shoulder-length hair to match that looked like moonlight when the sun caught it in just the right way. Ichigo had only ever been close enough to see Shiro's eyes a handful of times, but they were just as unique and enchanting as the rest of him, the sclera being midnight black and the irises a molten golden color.

Ichigo noticed that today Shiro was wearing black jeans that were seemingly painted onto his legs and a dark gray v-neck that was cut low enough to showcase a porcelain cut of collarbone and defined pectoral muscles. The dark colors only served to make his pearly skin all the more luscious. Not to mention that he had several piercings, including studded snake bites, an industrial on his left ear, and two eyebrow rings over his right eye.

Like he said, _gorgeous_.

Ichigo then looked over to where Grimmjow Jaegerjaques was sitting right beside Shiro. No surprise there, really, the two were never truly seen without each other.

Grimmjow was taller and broader than his friend, but no less beautiful. He looked like a true water/sex god come to life. His skin was sun-kissed, the perfect backdrop for his bluer than the Mediterranean eyes and turquoise jewel-colored hair, the hair that was somehow perfectly imperfect, mussed and with a few strands brushing his forehead. His smile almost hurt Ichigo's eyes, white teeth against summer skin made them look positively dazzling. He had gotten teal streaks of color tattooed underneath his eyes in sophomore year, and they made him look divine, like he wasn't of his world. No one that pretty could be.

He was sporting a royal blue flannel plaid shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms and distressed jeans torn in all the right places that just made Ichigo want to rip the rest of them right off of the blunette's body. And one time, he had been lucky enough to see that Grimmjow had a pierced tongue, an aqua stud that matched his hair resting in the middle of that wet muscle.

They were perfection.

How was he supposed to expect even _one_ of them to notice him? They didn't even know he existed, and Ichigo hated that. He hated that even _if _one of them were to take an interest in him, he still wouldn't be satisfied, because…he wanted both.

Ichigo hadn't even realized that his hand had been moving, his pencil flying across the paper in front of him until that paper was snatched out from under his hand.

"Oh, what's this?" Rukia teased, mirth lighting up her dark violet eyes as they scanned what the orangette had been subconsciously sketching.

"Hey, give that back!" Ichigo protested, reaching out for the paper, only to have it yanked out of his reach.

"Wow, Ichigo," the petite girl's voice was solemn, making him frown in confusion. "This is really good."

"It's…it's just a sketch," Ichigo insisted, finally plucking the piece of paper from Rukia's grasp and shoving it into his backpack, the likeness of both Grimmjow Jaegerjaques and Hichigo Shirosaki disappearing into the dark cavern.

* * *

><p>For some reason Ichigo could never fathom, it seemed that he never failed to capture the attention of other males looking for a fight. It was like he had some sort of bullseye painted on his back or on his forehead or something. Maybe it was because of his traffic cone bright orange hair that acted as a kind of beacon for troublemakers.<p>

Anyway, it didn't really matter why he seemed to always find himself in these kinds of situations, because the fact of the matter was, was that once, twice, three times a week it happened. It wasn't a huge deal considering that Ichigo could fend for himself and he would almost always be on the winning side of any fight, but there were the times that he could use a hand, or two.

Times like when he was walking home that day.

He had just passed the convenience store, where he parted ways with Rukia every day after school, when he heard it. That whistle, jeering and insolent, stopped him in his tracks and he gripped his backpack tighter with one hand as he looked across the street.

Ichigo recognized them immediately, the four of them had been the bane of his existence almost everyday since he he had first started attending Karakura High School. Out of all the people who picked fights with him, they were the most persistent, taunting him nearly twice a month ever since. He didn't understand why they kept coming back when he had pummeled every single one of them into the ground more times than he could count. Probably for some sort of twisted machismo pride, trying to regain their honor or something.

The four boys, whom Ichigo knew to be seniors at another high school, crossed the street quickly, their de facto leader at the forefront. Ichigo could say without hesitation that he hated that one the most, he always tried to come up with clever one-liners and other things to say while Ichigo was in the middle of planting his fist in the guy's ugly face.

'Ey, Kurosaki, I heard somethin' real _interesting _about you," the leader smirked.

"Yeah?" Ichigo frowned. "And what would that be?"

The three others flanked the leader, identical grins on all of their sub-par faces.

"That you're a faggot."

Ichigo's eyes infinitesimally widened, but then narrowed, sneer appearing on his lips.

"So, it's true then?" the leader pressed.

"It wouldn't matter, I'd still be able to kick your ass, just like I do every time you start shit with me," Ichigo scoffed.

"Oh, really?"

Ichigo was about to retort when something caught his eye, his gaze flickering to where the dying sunlight was glinting off a piece of metal that made his breath hitch in his throat. There wasn't a doubt as to what it could be, and though he had been fending these guys off of for nearly four years now, he had never thought it would come to this.

He took an subconscious step backwards, away from the danger of the switchblade that had been flicked through the leader's knuckles. And it seemed that the others had learned from all the times Ichigo had taken them down, taking advantage of his momentary distraction and two of them seizing his arms and the last one landing a solid blow to his gut before Ichigo could do anything. His backpack fell to the ground and in his slight pained daze they shoved him up against the brick wall.

Feeling panic for the first time in a very long time, Ichigo struck out with his foot, making contact with someone's groin, who then groaned and fell to his knees. His eyes swept across the street, but no one was there. He would have to get out of this on his own.

The two still had his arms pinned against the wall as their leader strode up towards him, switchblade twirling about clumsily in his fingertips. He was trying to look cool doing it, but it was obvious that he was inexperienced, which was even worse and far more dangerous than if he actually knew how to use one. Moving fast and dodging another one of Ichigo's kicks, the leader pressed right up against the orangette, blade right placed against Ichigo's throat.

Ichigo's pulse quickened and he struggled, but to no avail, the grip on his arms were like iron.

"Well, if you _are _a faggot, then you're sure to enjoy this," the leader chuckled darkly, placing one hand on Ichigo's jeans' waistband, causing the boy's struggling to cease in shock, allowing that hand to reach for the button to his jeans.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Ichigo yelled, his voice hoarse and thick and he managed to rip one of his arms free, immediately wrapping a hand around the leader's wrist and jerking it away. He was only rewarded with the harsh feeling of the blade pressed closer to his throat, the metal biting into his skin just the slightest bit so that a trickle of red blood was spilled.

"Shut up, I _know _you like it, _fa-"_

However, the leader never did get to finish the slur, because the next second he was on the sidewalk, a foot very nearly grounding his head into the pavement. Ichigo felt the grip on his other arm release and he slid to the ground onto his backside, his legs feeling like jelly. He looked up to see his saviors outlined in the sunset glow and felt his heart stop.

"Now, now, Yoshi, wanna tell me wha' yer doin' on our turf?" the silvery voice of the owner of the foot that was keeping the leader's head pinned to the pavement asked. The leader's, or Yoshi's, expression was one of pure terror as he gazed up into gold on black eyes. But before he could say anything, a loud bang capture his attention and Ichigo looked over to see all three of the other senior boys that had been holding him against the wall were now in the dumpster beside the convenience store, moaning in pain. The blunette that had obviously been the cause of that was leaning against said dumpster, lighting up a cigarette behind his hand.

"Ah, I'm so sorry, Mr. Shirosaki, Mr. Jaegerjaques, I didn't know this was your turf!" Yoshi pleaded, whimpering when the pressure from Shiro's foot increased. "P-please, I'm sorry!"

_Mr. _Shirosaki? _Mr. _Jaegerjaques? Ichigo was thoroughly confused.

"Tch, liar," Grimmjow muttered around his cigarette. Ichigo glanced back to where Shiro had a contemplative look on his exquisite face, tapping a finger to his lips in thought.

"Well, I'd love ta rough ya up a bit, Yoshi, but m'fraid it's not my place," his lips spread into a slightly crazed smile that sent shivers down Ichigo's spine, in a very good way. "I'll jus' tell Gin ya've been overstepping your bound'ries, yes?"

"Oh, no, please don't! I'll do anything, I'm sorry!"

"Would ya prefer me and Grimmy over here ta show ya what happens to little shits like ya who come into our turf unannounced?" Shiro asked, almost simpering. Yoshi looked from Shiro to Grimmjow and then back again, his eyes full of fright. In fact, it looked like he mat start crying at any point, which Ichigo would've thoroughly enjoyed if he wasn't in shock. Shiro removed his foot from Yoshi's head, stepping back. "Get the fuck outta here."

Yoshi wasted no time before scrambling to his feet, switchblade forgotten on the ground, and running clumsily down the street.

"Ya alright, Ichigo?"

It took him a few seconds to realize that Grimmjow was talking to him, and that he had just said his _name_. How did he know his _name_?

Ichigo couldn't say anything and didn't try to after only a small, strangled sound escaped from his throat. Two large, warm hands placed themselves underneath his arms and hauled him to his unsteady feet.

_Grimmjow Jaegerjaques _and _Hichigo Shirosaki _had just saved him, _him_, from being molested and possibly raped on the street corner. And Grimmjow knew his name, and had touched him…

Fingers snapping in front of his face brought him back to Earth, a hand still on his shoulder to keep him from falling over.

"I think he's in shock," Grimmjow grunted, resorting to waving a hand in front of Ichigo's face, calling his name. Shiro shrugged and moved over to where Ichigo's backpack had fallen to the ground, several papers spilling out of the thing and onto the sidewalk. He started to gather them in his hands, when he paused and reached for one, holding it up to his face.

"Hey Grimmy, look a' this," he said, an uncharacteristically soft smile on his face and his black and gold eyes trailed over to meet Ichigo's as he handed the piece of paper over to his friend, whose blue eyebrows furrowed.

"Heh, kid's pretty talented," he mused and that was when Ichigo was finally spurred into action, ripping the piece of paper out of Grimmjow's hand rather rudely, eyes scanning over it in mild terror.

_Oh no…_

Of course one of the very few papers that had fallen out of his backpack would be the one crude sketch he had done during lunch period that day.

"So, Ichigo," Shiro stepped closer to the orangette, backpack dangling from his hand, and if this wasn't one of the many scenarios that Ichigo had dreamt of so often, he didn't know what was. "You seem to get into a lot of fights."

"Yeah," he breathed, all too aware that the two loves of his life were within a two foot radius.

"Let's make a deal, then."

* * *

><p>And that was how it all started. The daily walks to school and back with both Grimmjow and Shiro.<p>

It had been agreed that fateful day that Ichigo was in a little over his head with the thugs who swarmed the neighborhood like locust after hours, especially now that he had caught the special attention of Yoshi and his little band of followers. It was too much for him to handle by himself, so Grimmjow and Shiro had offered themselves up as bodyguards of sorts and at first Ichigo had been suspicious, especially when all they had asked for in return was a colored version of the sketch he had done of the both of them.

It was torture, to put it simply. Sweet, perfect torture, but still torture all the same. It seemed like the more time he spent with both the blunette and the albino, the more he fell for them, for their manic grins and sparkling eyes. He loved Shiro's slinkiness and the way his jeans always seemed to rest on his exquisitely cut hipbones. And he loved Grimmjow's brash arrogance and the way he ran his hand through his already tousled blue hair whenever he had trouble expressing himself in those fleeting moments of doubt. He learned everything he possible could about them, that they had practically grown up together, as Shiro had been orphaned at a young age and Grimmjow's parents had kicked him out years ago. They had fallen into the gang life, of course, and in a second of true sincerity, both said they wanted out, but once you were in, you were in for life. There were so many layers to the both of them that Ichigo had never expected and it only served to make him all the more anguished, even more so than a regular teenager.

He didn't think that he could possibly divide his heart anymore evenly between the two of them. Ichigo could never choose between his two bright, blinding stars.

Of course, the thought of pursuing either one of them flew completely out of his mind a month later, exactly a week before prom.

Ichigo had taken to eating with the two and their select circle of friends. In fact, he could say that he probably spent all of his waking time with Grimmjow and Shiro when he wasn't in class. This had caused some concern from his other friends, but he had brushed them off. But one day, they didn't show up to lunch, which was unusual ever since they had come up with the agreement a month earlier. Before it was rare that the two would even come to school, but after that day when they had interfered on Ichigo's behalf, they had been showing up every day.

Needless to say, he had been worried and had sought them out in the school hallways, knowing they had to be there somewhere, considering he had just seen them that morning. Ichigo looked throughout almost the entire school, until he came to the second story boy's bathroom, in which he heard two very familiar voices coming from the last stall.

"Shit, right there."

"Yeah, ya like tha'?"

Ichigo froze, the sounds of what was undeniably lips and skin meeting each other filling the bathroom and his ears. And he felt his heart plummet from his chest to shatter into a million pieces in the pit of his belly.

He had left the bathroom soundlessly, and the school, skipping the rest of the day's classes. He didn't answer the door when Grimmjow and Shiro came around looking for him. He didn't answer his cell phone either. He didn't go to school the next day, and when he did the next, he made sure to leave much earlier than usual so he wouldn't run into them. He didn't acknowledge either of them when they called his name in the hallways. He didn't wait for them after school.

Ichigo knew he was being childish. He had no claim to either of them, and therefore had no right to say what they couldn't do or not do, but it still hurt. It hurt so bad sometimes he thought he could curl up and wither and die right there. It wasn't exactly betrayal he felt, he just felt so…left out.

* * *

><p>"Christ, this school's so fucking cheap, having the senior prom in the gym."<p>

Ichigo just nodded along with Rukia's redheaded prom date, Renji, as he poured himself a glass of punch. He must've been on his fifteenth glass by now, and they were only an hour into what must've been the most God-awful prom ever. He couldn't believe he had rented a tux for this.

Orihime was pleasant enough company, mostly quiet, having sensed his rather sour mood of late, and after she had been asked by some stoic guy with dark, shaggy hair to dance twenty minutes ago, she had asked if it was okay with him. Ichigo had nodded and he hadn't seen her since, which was good because he hated dancing anyway. Rukia had gone off to powder her nose or something, leaving him there with Renji.

"Yeah…I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Ichigo said, placing his now empty glass on the table.

"No wonder, you've been downing that punch ever since we got here."

Ichigo resisted the urge to roll his eyes and spun around, walking out of the gym that had been decorated with streamers and colored lights. He tugged at his tie as he opened the door to step out into the hallway, sighing in relief as the chilled air hit his face, it had been far too hot in there, with all the body heat and it being the middle of May.

He was wondering how long he could stay out of the gym without being rude to Orihime as he walked by some of the empty classrooms when something wrapped around his right arm, dragging him into one of them and slamming the door shut behind him.

Obviously the sense of security he had had in the last month had dulled his senses.

"What the-" he started, but a hand clamped over his mouth and he was shoved up against the classroom wall.

"Finally caught up to ya, Ichigo."

It then hit him that two people had dragged him into the classroom and that that rough velvet voice was all too familiar. The hand that been over his mouth released him, but he didn't say anything, just frowned up at both Shiro and Grimmjow. The former leaned forward until his face was nearly pressed against the orangette's, and Ichigo could smell the faint scent of Drakkar Noir on porcelain skin. It was positively intoxicating.

"Ya wanna tell us why ya've been avoiding' us, hm?" Shiro asked, his voice nothing but a whisper across Ichigo's cheek, sending pleasurable shudders down his spine. Ichigo's gaze flickered from Shiro to Grimmjow, who was standing very, _very _close as well, cyanic, hard eyes pinning him where he stood.

"I-I…" Ichigo trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"You what?" Grimmjow pressed, his normally gruff voice soft. Even his hard as diamond eyes were slowly melting like molten sapphires. It wasn't very fair what that, plus Shiro's breath now running across his neck, did to poor Ichigo.

"I heard you two," he confessed. "In the bathroom, last week, I…" he paused again, not finding the right words in his compromised mind. "I'm sorry."

Shiro pulled back a little, gold on black eyes flitting away to meet Grimmjow's blue, a slight frown on both of their faces. Then the blunette faced him once more, a smirk replacing his frown.

"You're not sorry now, but you will be," he said and before Ichigo could say anything to that, soft, pillowy lips had covered his own in a searing kiss. He felt his eyes widen and then slowly close as Grimmjow coaxed his lips into reacting with his own, tongue sliding past his now parted teeth to entwine with his. It felt like forever until the blunette finally pulled away, but before Ichigo could even catch his breath, Shiro, whom he had never forgotten was there, captured his mouth in a kiss just as blissful and steaming as his last one. When that kiss was broken too, Ichigo panted, looking up at the two other boys, whom he noticed were not dressed as if they were going to their senior prom, and scowled in confusion.

"I don't understand," he said. Weren't Shiro and Grimmjow together? Why would they kiss anyone else, and be perfectly content watching their partner kiss someone else right in front of them.

"Then stop tryin' ta," Shiro insisted, leaning forward yet again to place his lips on Ichigo's neck, nipping gently, while Grimmjow maneuvered himself to Ichigo's right side, kissing him once again.

As confused as Ichigo was, he was in heaven for sure. He never, ever thought that he could have two such divine beings as Grimmjow and Shiro kissing him, putting their hands all over his body in ways he had never even dreamed of, at the same time. It was perfection, heartbreakingly lovely, especially when they both pulled away and he looked up to both of them, both of their faces only alike in their beauty filling his vision at the same time.

Grimmjow's arms wrapped around his waist, bodily placing him on top of the large teacher's desk in the room, Shiro crawling up behind him, running his alabaster hands down the front of his tux, undoing the buttons ever so slowly. It vaguely hit Ichigo that this was the independent study classroom, and that this was Mr. Kuchiki's desk, and he would've laughed at the somewhat irony of it all if Grimmjow hadn't pulled him in for another bruising kiss.

Ichigo, feeling a little more confident now, placed his hands on the blunette's broad chest, sliding them down until the reached the hem of his t-shirt, which he slid his fingers underneath to feel the heated, taut skin that lay over the man's defined abdominal muscles and all the while he could feel Shiro behind him. And he was then being slowly coaxed backwards, so that he was laying on his back, on top of Shiro's chest, pressed in between both him and Grimmjow, whom had crawled onto the desk on his hands and knees.

Grimmjow's lips left his and Ichigo almost whined until he saw where they were going next.

He watched Shiro and Grimmjow kiss with all the rapture of a devout disciple. They were beautiful together, perfect white against summer skin, Shiro's black painted nails scraping across Grimmjow's flawless back as he peeled off the man's shirt. Grimmjow reached around Ichigo to do return the favor, revealing a lithe, toned, crystalline torso and arms for both his and Ichigo's viewing pleasure, the latter humming in pleasure as both of their exposed chests crushed him in between them exquisitely.

Both of the other males then set about undressing Ichigo, very nearly ripping the black jacket and white collared shirt off of the boy, Shiro tugging at the tie still around his neck to pull Ichigo into a slow, smoldering kiss. When the orangette felt warm, large hands at his belt buckle he groaned and bucked his hips upwards, earning a chuckle from both of the others. But his pants soon came off with a flourish, dropping to land on the floor, both Grimmjow and Shiro's following as their hands continued to roam his body in a torturous manner.

Ichigo could feel his erection straining against his boxers and with Shiro grinding into him from behind and Grimmjow from the front, he was afraid that he might lose all sense of himself, as well as his dignity if something else didn't happen soon. But then he felt a sharp sensation on his hipbone where Grimmjow bit down and he gasped at the feeling as the man's fingers slid into his boxer briefs, lightly skimming the heated flesh of his cock.

"Oh g-ahhh," Ichigo moaned, wantonly thrusting his hips upwards as he lay his head in the crook of Shiro's shoulder, who kissed his temple in an almost surprisingly sweet gesture. It distracted him so much that when Grimmjow's mouth enveloped the head of his erection, he yelped at the unbelievably delicious sensation. It was so hot and wet that he thought might come then and there, especially when he looked down to lock gazes with cyanic fire, orbs that had simultaneously darkened and brightened with lust.

"Yeah, ya like it when Grimmy sucks yer cock?" Shiro simpered in his ear, and while Ichigo would've normally been mortified by such dirty talk, in his aroused state, he only nodded, biting down on his already swollen bottom lip to keep from crying out. They were still in school and could still be discovered, and wouldn't that be lovely.

Ichigo was rapidly turning into a pile of mush in Shiro's arms, he felt completely boneless as pure pleasure completely overwhelmed him, so he didn't have much of a reaction when Grimmjow's saliva moistened ring finger slid into him, but when his middle finger did, he jumped a little at the uncomfortable feeling. Shiro was quick to press his lips to his, momentarily distracting Ichigo with his intoxicating kiss, but when Grimmjow's fingers began to move in a scissoring motion, Ichigo hissed and broke away, scowling down at the blunette, which was hard to do when the man still had his dick in his mouth (which still felt incredibly amazing and was the only reason he wasn't pulling away he might add.)

"Shh, just relax, it'll get better," Shiro cooed in his ear, one porcelain hand reaching down to caress the curve of Ichigo's ass. And so he did, melting into Shiro's embrace once more, only to almost shoot his load when one of Grimmjow's fingers crooked and brushed against a spot that had him seeing stars. It was so intense that he couldn't tell from exactly where the pleasure had started, where it had begun, because it seemed to fill his entire body. It had him arching his back and he was vaguely aware that Shiro was now also without his underwear and his heated erection was brushing up against the cleft of his ass and he'd be damned if it didn't feel _amazing_, _both _of the two people he loved touching him, giving him pleasure.

When Grimmjow pulled away, he felt incomplete and opened his eyes to scowl at him, hips bucking in impatience, earning him amused laughter from the two other men. However, he didn't have to suffer the seemingly empty, frustrated feeling for long because suddenly there was something much bigger prodding at his entrance. And then there were _two _much bigger somethings, and he pushed at Grimmjow's chest and elbowed Shiro in the ribs.

"No fucking way," he insisted. Not the both of them, at the same time, on his very first experience with this sort of thing.

"Then who first?"

He wasn't sure who had asked that, but it didn't matter, because therein lied the problem. He couldn't choose, he never could and would never be able to.

"Okay," he affirmed softly, taking a shaky breath and nodding his head once. And then they both pushed in, slowly and it _hurt_, but it wasn't as if Ichigo had never experienced pain before and besides, it wasn't as if it was all bad. There was a deeply seated pleasure coiling up his spine, a sweet ache that kept it from being unbearable.

It was slow and it felt like ages and ages had passed until they were both inside of him. He felt like he may break apart into pieces, but somehow those two pairs of strong, warm arms around him kept him whole. Then he wondered why they weren't moving and looked up into two pairs of striking eyes, confusion clear in his own. Then it hit him that they were awaiting his affirmation and that hit such a tender spot inside of his heart that even in his discomfort he managed a small smile.

"It's okay," he whispered and then there wasn't one pair of lips on his, but two, a three-way kiss, and it wasn't awkward at all. It was perfect, and when they started to move and there was more pain, he clung onto them, biting their swollen lips in retaliation, but then they both hit that very, very sweet spot inside of him that had his vision going completely black and white, like static. And then there was no pain at all, only pleasure.

It continued on like this for what felt like only a second and yet somehow like an aeon at the same time. And then someone's hand, he wasn't sure whose, wrapped around the base of his erection and squeezed, moving slowly upwards, as if milking him, and he finally came with a shudder, his blunt nails digging into alabaster and summer skin.

And that's when it hit him.

His heart wasn't divided, it was whole and encompassed his love for both of them. Turns out stars are at their best, not alone, but when they join together and form a constellation.

...

A/N: Ah, my first High School AU, and my first polyamorous fic. It's also my first time writing a Bleach pairing other than Grimmjow/Ichigo. So…hope you guys liked it! Oh and if you've made a request, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you, but I am working on other things at the moment so it may take awhile for me to write them.

Hah, my threesomes = realistic. ;P I really suggest NOT trying that at home.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. Oh and the note thingy at the beginning? Totally lifted off of Sixteen Candles.


	4. GrimmIchi Sacred  Part I

**Summary: **Ichigo is the pharaoh of Lower Egypt who has been slighted by the pharaoh of the Upper region, Aizen. In order to curry favor, Pharaoh Aizen offers one of his prized slaves, Grimmjow, whom has said to be one of the most beautiful and possibly sacred as his coloring likens him to water, which is the most sacred element to the Egyptians. Ichigo takes quite a liking to his new slave, especially after he discovers Grimmjow's unbreakable spirit and heart underneath the rough yet beautiful exterior.

**Warnings: **Historical AU, yaoi, lemon, slavery, violence (this includes a whipping scene, and no not in the fun way.) Oh, and forgive me if this is not entirely historically accurate with timeline and the like (in fact, it probably isn't.) I'm not a _huge _Ancient Egypt buff.

* * *

><p><strong>Sacred - Part <strong>**I **

A Grimmjow/Ichigo set in Ancient Egypt.

Written for **SilverEternity**

* * *

><p><strong>1615 B.C. <strong>

**The Pharaoh of Lower Egypt's Palace at Giza**

* * *

><p><em>Crack.<em>

Grimmjow tightened his hold on the leather straps that were intertwined in his hands and wrapped around his wrists, forcing his hands behind his back and to rest at the base of his spine. He pulled at the binds almost instinctively. It had been so long since he had been tied down like this, made to kneel at the foot of others and feel so absolutely powerless.

_Crack._

The only visible sign he was in pain Grimmjow allowed himself was a slight flinch as that hardened leather snapped across the expanse of his broad back. It had been easier to do so after the first one had slashed open his linen tunic and into the first bit of flawless, bronzed skin, now marked with crisscrossed and angry dark pink lines; he now could brace himself for the pain as it came in rhythmic intervals.

_Crack._

He winced and bit into his lower lip _hard_ to keep from shouting out as the whip cut into the heavily abused spot right between his shoulder blades. The slight trickle of liquid down his back that followed was definitely not sweat, though he had enough of that running down his face from the sweltering heat.

_Crack_.

Grimmjow wanted to buckle over and groan as his punishment giver showed no mercy and snapped that whip back down into the same spot. Blood sprayed at the sadistic gesture, falling to stain the white linen that had pooled around his waist. Taking a deep breath, the blue-haired man slitted one eye open to take in his surroundings once more, reminding himself of why he couldn't show weakness.

He was on a raised, wooden platform, along with two others behind him and around the platform were various people who lived in the grand palace at his back, some looking at him with pity as they witnessed someone completely innocent of any wrongdoing made to endure such torture. Most, however, were watching with a perverse glee at seeing the ever _unworthy_ slave that had been treated like royalty so low and in such agony. They only wished that Grimmjow would give in and scream in pain for their entertainment, for it had been so long since a public whipping as their current ruler despised them.

_Crack._

Grimmjow felt his breathing begin to quicken but he fought to control it, taking deep, long breaths. He wouldn't show weakness, he wouldn't, he wouldn't. He hadn't lived this long through absolute misery and then be shown kindness for the first time in his twenty years to disgrace that kind person by acting like a pathetic weakling. No, in fact, he would rather that _that _person never even found out about this.

But it would seem that, again and as it had for all his life, luck evaded him.

When the next blow didn't come, Grimmjow blinked in confusion, looking over the crowd to see their looks of surprise and stricken gasps before, one by one, they began to fall to their knees, hands splayed before them as they buried their faces into the sand. His cyan eyes widened as he realized what such a display could only mean, though he desperately hoped he was wrong.

Working through the searing pain in his back and shoulders as he turned his head to look behind him, Grimmjow took note of the two men that had been behind him the entire time falling to their knees just as the crowd had done, one quaking in fear,...and the one slowly ascending the steps to the platform, looking like the god in human form he truly was.

The Pharaoh of Lower Egypt's bright hair, the exact color of the sun, caught in the light as he finally stepped onto the low structure, a burning rage clear in his dark eyes that none of his subjects had ever seen displayed by their usually irreverent monarch. Grimmjow's chest tightened in both shame and disappointment.

_He wasn't supposed to ever see him like this. _

"Just _what _is going on here?" The Pharaoh's controlled voice spoke of his royal upbringing, instilling so much fear into the one individual that had been shaking that he couldn't even speak, the other's expression was blank and he said nothing as well, though it was apparent from the way he avoided looking directly at the orange-haired Pharaoh that he was disturbed by the sudden appearance.

Grimmjow watched with wide eyes as the royal turned his head away from the two others to lock gazes with him, his monarch's coffee-colored eyes softening and the frown marring his handsome face deepening as he took a step forward. The blue-haired slave dropped his gaze to the wooden slats below him, unwilling to stand the humiliation he felt at the direct eye-contact.

It seemed he only caused more trouble for the young man (_so _young and yet the ruler of an entire country), the one that had shown him a kindness and respect he had never experienced before being 'given' to the Pharaoh months ago. Grimmjow had silently pledged to do whatever he could to repay the other man in any way he could, the man he had come to know not as his ruler, his owner, but _Ichigo_.

* * *

><p><strong>Six Months Earlier<strong>

* * *

><p>The Pharaoh of Lower Egypt sat in his personal chambers, half-heartedly picking a grape off its stem and popping it into his mouth. It wasn't very sweet and he almost sighed in disappointment before swallowing it. Imported all the way from the lands to the north and they turned out to be nothing more than mediocre. That's the main problem when one can have anything they ever wanted with a snap of their fingers, everything turns out to be less than expected, that's the trade-off.<p>

Needless to say, Ichigo was not at all hoping for his _gift _to be even the slightest bit entertaining. There was no point in getting all worked up over what would only be another disappointment, but even still he had to wait around for its arrival. Gesturing to one of the woman servants at his side to take the plate of grapes away, he took a deep sip of wine - a much better version of those tasteless things.

Looking out of the window with fawn-brown eyes lined in kohl, he saw that the sun was nearly at the horizon, meaning the day was nearly over and that he had lost his chance to go chariot racing that day. Frowning in displeasure, he drummed his fingers against the armrest of the solid gold throne that had been his father's before him, and his father's, and his father's, and so on until the beginning of civilization.

Out of sheer boredom, he let his gaze roam over the servant girls in the room, all dressed in fine tunics due to his own generosity. He searched their bodies for anything pleasing to the eye and when he found nothing, he looked to the guards at the doors but they were all scarred and beastly-looking. Ichigo sighed again, extremely discontent with the fact he had been waiting for what felt like hours for the traveling party that was to bring him his gift.

If one could even call it that, this gift would most likely only bring him more burden from what he had heard of it.

Last month, Upper Egypt's Pharaoh had failed to control the barbarian gangs that stalked the border for any wandering Lower Egyptian before attacking and taking whatever they could before killing the innocent citizen. Ichigo had had his hands tied as he couldn't step across the boundary line to discipline the ruthless killers and yet the other Pharaoh refused to do a thing about it, instead sending him this _gift _as penance for all of his slain subjects. It made his blood boil every time he thought on it, so he pushed it aside in order to ponder why the other ruler had sent such a thing as a gift.

Usually they would send each other gold, perfumes, servants by the dozen, imported foods and wine as gifts, to superficially keep the peace between the two parts of the country. But this time the Upper Egyptian Pharaoh had sent a _slave_ as his gift. One, singular male of about twenty years of age according to his letter. To say Ichigo had been underwhelmed would have been an understatement indeed.

The other monarch had gone on to explain how this slave was different from the others and obviously had been touched by the gods, as not only were his eyes blue, but his hair as well. Ichigo had scoffed at that, hoping they didn't try to give him a slave whose hair had been dyed (though he knew of no dye that would turn a man's hair blue.) Apparently his mother had been Hebrew and his father a foreigner from the strange lands to the north, and so he was nothing more than a slave in Upper Egypt, having always belonged to the Pharaoh.

Of course Ichigo was skeptical to believe that a man could be born with both blue eyes and hair, but if it were true, then that supposed slave would've been taken in by a temple in Lower Egypt for certain. Blue is the color of water, like the Nile, and so it is the symbol of life to all Egyptians. To have so much of it in one's body, _naturally_, would definitely make such a person revered as a priest or possibly even a child of one of the gods.

Ichigo knew this all too well, as it had been cheered throughout the country on the day he was born that his bright orange hair was a sign that he was truly a god in human form, the son of Ra, as it was the exact shade of the sunset sun, when that most holy god died for the night, only to arise again the next morning.

Perhaps, _if _it were true, the fact that this slave was half-Hebrew and half a strange northern race kept their temples from believing that he was such a thing.

Just as Ichigo was contemplating this, the guards that stood watch at the entryway to his personal chambers suddenly pulled aside the sheer drapery to reveal a small party of one woman and three men behind her, two of them firmly gripping onto the one in between them, as if he might run away. They were all dressed in exquisite finery, despite what must have been a long trip through the desert to get to the palace.

Ichigo deduced that the one being manhandled was his supposed gift, not that he could make out whether or not what he had been told about the slave was true, as there was a cloak wrapped around him, covering most of his head and body. He could only tell the man was tall, taller than him, and had his hands and feet shackled together with heavy, metal chains that noisily dragged across the ground. The pharaoh felt a swell of outrage. He had never been comfortable with people being chained like they were no better than rabid animals and he felt his kohl-lined eyes narrow in displeasure as the two men on either side of the slave forcibly pushed him to his knees and a spark of amusement as it seemed that the man struggled a bit before giving in.

He liked that someone that had been a slave their whole lives could still have such fight left in them. Ichigo had seen what slavery had done to people in a matter of days and yet this slave in front of him, though he could not see his face properly, seemed to not have let twenty years of the lifestyle break his spirit. Yes, he liked that quite a lot.

"Your majesty," the woman in the group greeted in a melodic voice, face to the floor as she knelt in a prostrate position in front of his throne. "We have brought your gift from the great Pharaoh of Upper Egypt, who greatly wishes that it will please you," she said in a well-rehearsed manner, never lifting her eyes from the floor below her.

"Tell your ruler that he has my utmost gratitude," Ichigo said, boredom clear in his tone even as he leaned forward, trying to peer under the cloak for a better glimpse of the man underneath, but he could only see a strong jaw attached to a bronzed neck and collarbone. "I am only wondering if what I have heard about my..._gift _is true."

"Yes, your majesty. Everything his highness the Pharaoh has told you is true, our ruler speaks no lies," the woman answered, still not moving. Ichigo frowned.

It was time for the truth to come out.

"Show me," he commanded in his most royal tone, the one that made anyone do whatever it was he desired.

"Yes, your majesty," the woman acquiesced, standing from her position on the floor, but still averting her eyes as she brought her hand to pull back the cloak that hid the tribute from view, letting it fall to the floor as the man was fully revealed.

Several stunned gasps rang throughout the chambers, mostly from the servant women, but Ichigo was silent, unsure whether or not to believe the creature he was seeing before him was real.

There was no mistaking that the tousled, uneven hair on the man's head was as blue as the water of the Nile herself, perhaps even bluer. His eyes were slightly darker, thought still undoubtedly an incredibly atmospheric blue that had Ichigo bowing forward to get a closer look even though the orbs held only hatred as they glared up at him. But he found the fierce stare that accompanied the exotic irises only made them even more beautiful.

And yes, there was no mistaking that the man before him was beautiful, even aside from his rare coloring. He had a sharp, straight nose, full lips, perfect cheekbones, a body that was wrapped in just enough sinewy muscle in all the right places and covered in skin that was bronzed to perfection. Ichigo subconsciously licked his lips as he discovered the slave had been dressed in a fine tunic sewn to fit his body and green and blue eye shadow and kohl applied around those enticing eyes in what was an obvious attempt to keep him from looking so..._savage_. But that was exactly how he looked with that wild, almost hungry look blazing in his cerulean orbs, and chained like an untamed, dangerous animal.

Yes, he looked _savagely beautiful_.

"Please forgive the gift's behavior, your majesty. He has always been uncivilized, but the great Pharaoh said that he was sure to calm down once taken by someone like yourself," the woman said softly, causing the slave's upper lip to curl into a snarl, exposing straight, white teeth, but he had enough sense not to make a sound.

_Taken, hm? _Ichigo thought as he tapped a ringed finger to his lips.

"Tell your ruler that I am most pleased with my gift and he has my infinite thanks," he said disinterestedly, waving a hand nonchalantly. And with that minute gesture, the traveling party as well as the servant women and guards exited his personal chambers, leaving him alone with his new gift.

"What is your name?"

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><p>When Grimmjow had been told he was going to be given to the Pharaoh of Lower Egypt at first he had been ecstatic at the thought of leaving the blasted place he had been kept as a slave for his entire twenty years of living, worked to the bone every damn day only for the grace of being kept alive.<p>

He had always been treated differently because of his coloring, he knew that. Blue hair and eyes weren't exactly common, but he knew that it meant something to those temple priests and priestesses who eyed him hungrily and reverently every time they saw him, despite the fact that he was considered the lowest form of life there was, a foreign-blooded slave.

He had stupidly allowed himself to think it might be different in this new palace, until one of the high priestesses took it upon herself to explain to him that he would be going to join the Pharaoh's harem and would be expected to share the man's bed. He had nearly passed out at the thought of a man doing _that _to him, but the priestess had gone on to say it was a great honor and the Pharaoh of Lower Egypt was considered quite handsome and had hair the color of sun (which Grimmjow had doubted, despite his similar predicament.)

So, being the very reckless man he was, he had tried to escape several times. He hadn't really had a plan, only the thought of getting away from these people who were going to make him into some sort of concubine for some prick with a crown on his head. But, it seemed that they had expected this and had thwarted him at every turn.

Grimmjow had even gone so far as to pray to the gods for help, never having done so before as he didn't believe they would pay any attention to someone as low as him. And it seemed he had been right because he been dragged across the desert and dressed in a ridiculous, embroidered tunic that was too long for him and gold bracelets that pinched his skin and painted with that ludicrous eye make-up all the holy people and aristocrats were obsessed over. Then he had been shackled and made to kneel in front of the man, the god in human flesh, he was supposed to 'give' himself to.

Though he had been quite surprised at what the Pharaoh actually looked like.

He was barely a man, and had to be a year or two younger than himself. And it seemed that the rumors about the ruler having locks the color of the sun were true and though it was an unusual sight, it suited the man perfectly, complimenting his light golden skin and dark brown eyes lined with kohl (he was truly the only male Grimmjow had seen pull off the look to that day.) And the orange-haired monarch was dressed for his role, his white tunic falling to his knees and gold bangles and rings and necklaces encrusted with a variety of jewels covering almost every inch of available skin. However, it seemed that he had forgone the traditional Pharaoh crown, wearing nothing upon his head at all.

Not to mention, it looked like from where Grimmjow was kneeling at the throne of the Pharaoh that the other was smaller than him, having a lithe and toned body that looked incredibly..._pliable_.

He was knocked into reality both by that disturbing last thought and the stern words of the Lower Egyptian Pharaoh.

"I asked you your name."

"Grimmjow,...your majesty, " he answered reluctantly, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. He didn't want to hear his name on the lips of the man who was going to basically rape him, as he was far from willing even though he had given up on escaping.

For now.

"_Grimmjow_," the Pharaoh pronounced his name like he was savoring it. "A very strange name, isn't it?"

The blue-haired slave didn't bother to answer the rhetorical question. He knew that it was strange, everything about him was strange. He averted his eyes from the monarch's form, starting to feel a tad bit dizzy at the thought of what he may be forced to do.

"You can stop being so concerned, Grimmjow. I have no interest in taking the unwilling," the Pharaoh said lightly and the slave's bright blue eyes swiveled up to look at him in shock.

"Why not?"

It had always been a problem of his, learning to think before he spoke and to control his mouth when he felt the need to say something. Grimmjow always seemed to dig his own grave and mentally cursed himself for blurting out such a stupid thing. But the Pharaoh just chuckled, obviously amused.

"Because those who are unwilling are either fearful or stupid and I don't wish to bring someone to my bed who are either," he said simply. He seemed to enjoy it when Grimmjow's face flushed red at the insult, biting down hard on his lower lip to keep from saying anything in return. It was somehow so easy to forget that the younger man before him was one of the most powerful people in the entire world.

"Now that that's put to rest, I'll inform you now that I do not own uneducated slaves. Do you know how to read at all?"

To say Grimmjow was dumbfounded would have been quite the understatement and he blinked up at the man on the throne, who rolled his eyes obviously at the slave's inability to answer his simple inquiry.

"I'll take that as a no, and I'll assume that means you have no idea how to write, do arithmetic, or that you even know proper etiquette," the Pharaoh continued on, apparently choosing not to address Grimmjow's confused stare. "The people that live in my home, no matter what status they may have, reflect on me and therefore, all of them must be up to par. You, Grimmjow, will attend tutoring lessons until you are up to par."

The blunette still said nothing, in absolute shock from the words that were coming out of the orange-haired ruler's mouth. Though in the back of his mind there was a great excitement at getting the chance to learn how to read. He had always wanted to do so.

"You will be not be expected to work except for two days out of the week, when you do not have lessons. Is that understood?"

Grimmjow could only nod his head numbly.

_He was to attend tutoring and not work save for two days out the week like some kind of noble child? Had the Pharaoh lost his mind to allow such a thing?_

"I will have one of our high priestesses explain things further to you. I most likely won't speak with you ever again, Grimmjow, so this is good-bye for now," the monarch gestured to someone behind him and from beyond the translucent drapery around the throne appeared a young woman with hair a shade or two darker than the Pharaoh's and a kind face, obviously the orange-haired man's sister.

Grimmjow felt like he should say something, but he had never been good with words unless he was randomly blurting them out in anger so he only made forbidden eye-contact with the young, handsome Pharaoh, seeing a gleam in those dark brown orbs, before letting himself be led away by the high priestess, who insisted he call her Orihime.

Little did he know it was far from good-bye.

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><p>A month had passed since his exotic gift had arrived at the palace and Ichigo was having a hard time forgetting about the blue-haired slave. Those expressive sapphire eyes made their way into his mind whenever it wasn't on politics and ruling his county and sometimes when it was, and that husky, rough velvet voice he had only heard once definitely made its presence known in his dreams, his mind making it say his name over and over.<p>

He tried to sate himself with his usual bedmates and even a few new ones, but he was left unsatisfied. They all looked the same; dark hair, dark eyes, mocha-colored skin, and all he ached for was that blue and bronze that perfectly complimented each other.

It was not right for a mere mortal, a _slave _no less, to endlessly tempt and haunt him, the Pharaoh and the son of a god. It wasn't right, but it still was and no matter what he did to try and forget the beautiful man, he couldn't.

Ichigo had only seen Grimmjow a handful of times since, though they had never spoken during those times, the ruler pretending as if the blunette wasn't worthy of his attention, even when he had all of it. It was all he could do to keep from commanding Grimmjow into his bed, but he wouldn't do that, couldn't do that. He was no rapist and the other man was clearly not attracted to him, if the anger and that slight hint of fear in his eyes the first time they had met was any clue. Normally, it would have never bothered Ichigo if one so below him couldn't see him in that light, but with Grimmjow it was an endless pest buzzing in the back of his mind.

He walked with four guards behind him (it had taken years to get the head of guard to whittle it down from twelve) down the hallway, playing with a new scythe shaped sword the armory had made for him. They were passing one of the larger rooms that they sometimes supped in when having a small feast when he heard a _very _familiar voice cry out in frustration.

"This is pointless, I'll never be able to do this stupid stuff!"

Ichigo immediately paused and turned to his left, letting one of the guards lift the drapery out of the way so that he could step into the room.

There was a long table that only two people were seated at, sitting cross-legged at the end. Their very distinct hair colors made them easy to identify. Deep auburn for his sister, the high priestess Orihime, and a striking blue for Grimmjow.

The latter was holding a writing utensil, the brush's ends looking rather frayed as the man had apparently been pressing down too hard as he tried to learn how to properly write hieroglyphics. Ichigo smiled ruefully at the sight, remembering his own difficulties when learning all the slight nuances of the difficult language. Grimmjow's other hand was fisted in his hair as he glared down at the piece of papyrus like if he did it long enough, the thing would catch fire.

"Now Grimmjow, that's not true. Remember what I told you about counting to ten?" Orihime asked, patient as ever. The blunette just nodded in response, but still not taking his fierce glare away from the papyrus. "And remember how you said it helped when those guards were trying to pick a fight with you?"

"Yeah," Grimmjow grunted and Ichigo noticed he relaxed his grip on the writing brush, closing his eyes as his lips moved as he counted to ten silently. A smile broader than one he had had in quite some time appeared on the Pharaoh's face, not being able to help but think that the blue-haired slave was quite adorable when flustered and frustrated like such.

However, one of his more incompetent guards had to ruin the moment, sneezing at the most inopportune time so that both Grimmjow and Orihime both jumped in their seats, the papyrus ink bottle knocked over by one of their hands and the black stuff spilling all over the paper.

Ichigo watched as the high priestess spotted him first, immediately dropping to her knees and sending a look to Grimmjow for him to follow, whom had been formerly staring at the Pharaoh with wide eyes before doing so.

"I see your tutoring is coming along," Ichigo smirked, walking forward and sheathing his sword but not before he caught Grimmjow's almost lustful glance at it before those cyan orbs dropped to the floor once again. The monarch frowned; such a subservient position didn't fit the man even if he was a slave with no birthright at all, and his curiosity was piqued by that obvious want in that glance he had given the sword (and how he wished the blue-eyed man would look at him like that.)

Orihime took it upon herself to answer when Grimmjow remained silent.

"Grimmjow is doing quite well, your majesty," she chirped happily despite her face being not an inch from the floor.

"That's good to hear," Ichigo drawled, his eyes roaming the broad expanse of his exotic slave's back, the short tunic much better suiting him than the long style he had arrived in. Now he could clearly see the strong legs that were just as perfect as the rest of him and that led up to what looked to be the most firm and pert backside he had seen in his young, but experienced, life. A familiar heat started to pool in his lower abdomen and he turned away abruptly. "See that it continues," he addressed to Orihime before stalking out of the large room, feeling those eerily blue eyes on him as he walked away.

He _had _to find a way to make Grimmjow come to him willingly.

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><p><strong>A<strong>**/N: **I finally wrote a badass Ichigo. Yay! But of course, he angsted as always. I'm very sorry to split it into two sections, but it would've been very long otherwise. :) Well, hope you all are enjoying it so far. Stay tuned for the next installment!

_Also, if you are going to submit a request, please remember to read __**all **__of the rules. Thank you! :D _


	5. IchiGrimm Topsy Turvy

**Summary: **Grimmjow's always been too beautiful for his own good and accursed with a submissive scent so when the big cat hybrid mating season rolls around he finds himself fending off another horde of lustful suitors. He never wanted to play submissive to anyone...but then he meets a lion hybrid while on the run who may just change his mind.

**Warnings:** AU, yaoi, lemon, hybrids, almost all smut. Also, this is my first time writing both IchiGrimm and hybrids. I hope I don't disappoint! :)

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><p><strong>Topsy Turvy<strong>

An Ichigo/Grimmjow inspired by _Thundercats_

Written for **inominatenoname**

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><p>A blue-haired panther hybrid stumbled through the thick underbrush of the forest. He was already panting heavily, chest heaving, but he kept moving, tearing his way through the thick greenery with his sharp claws. There wasn't time for him to stop and catch his breath, not during this time of year, when his life went from relatively peaceful to sheer insanity in the blink of an eye.<p>

Most creatures revered the spring season as a time when the earth awakens from its winter sleep and new life is created and flowers bloom, etc, etc. That wasn't exactly how this hybrid saw spring, not at all.

In fact, to say that Grimmjow Jaegerjaques _hated_ spring with every fiber of his being and then some would have been the understatement of the century, because when that first green leaf appeared or that first tulip flower bloomed or that first day that was both bright and warm...he knew he was in utter _hell_ once again. And this may not make much sense to someone who isn't familiar with the big cat hybrids and their way of life, but spring to them meant something else besides afternoon rain and cherry blossoms. No, spring meant desperately searching for that perfect scent until you found the one you could rut against in fits of uncontrollable lust for hours (hell, even days) at a time.

It meant mating season.

But again, it doesn't really make sense why Grimmjow, an incredibly attractive panther hybrid that was only seventeen in human years, would have any problem with this. Most people that age, hybrid or not, would consider such a time to be heavenly, but they didn't have Grimmjow's..._predicament_, which was quite an unusual one, the only one of its kind from what he knew.

When the panther hybrid had hit potency in his fifteenth year and he first started to release pheromones in order to attract a mate just like all the other did, he had noticed something was wrong. He didn't smell quite like the other male hybrids, his scent was sweeter, lighter (so unlike him), and almost delicate in a way...almost like a female, even better according to some. In fact, that was exactly what was happening to the poor thing, though he was male, through and through, he was emitting the sweet, submissive pheromones that were supposed to be for female hybrids exclusively.

Grimmjow had long since dealt with this; he was fine that he couldn't mate with a female because of his inability to exude dominant pheromones. He thought they were rather whiny, worthless creatures anyway that he held no real sexual attraction to and had never really gotten along with. But there was no love lost there, as they had never liked him much, either, mostly because they were jealous a male's scent could entice more potential mates than any of them had ever been able to, and powerful, handsome ones too.

And that was Grimmjow's problem, why the springtime big cat mating season was sheer torture for him. Every one that had followed his coming of age had brought about a colossal amount of dominant male hybrids that wanted to mate with him, and many of them didn't take no for an answer and insisted on chasing the poor panther until they finally gave up or lost him. Grimmjow didn't even understand why they wanted to mate with him so badly (only that he would never let it happen because he wasn't about to be any one's bitch), the whole point of the season was to breed and he certainly couldn't bear children, so...why?

But what he was unaware of was that his looks only added fuel to their lust, pushing them over the edge after they caught a whiff of that delicious scent. It didn't help Grimmjow at all that he was born with a face and body that looked like it had been carved by angels, every slope and plane and angle perfection. And when those hybrids caught sight of the panther's tousled, sky blue hair that fell onto sun-kissed shoulders and wide, expressive eyes that were an incredible shade of atmospheric cerulean and usually blazed bright like fire so hot it turned blue, that really wasn't helping either. Then again, the dark teal cat ears that peaked out from underneath his pretty hair and matching tail that swished over a flawless backside were also part of the problem. Not to mention, still being young, he hadn't grown into his full musculature yet, leaving a lean body that looked perfect for pinning to the ground and rutting against.

Yes, that certainly didn't help Grimmjow in fending off the predatory, lascivious advances that he was currently fleeing from.

The panther hybrid was still clawing his way through that thick underbrush, panting from exertion. There were three different males chasing him down, one an absolutely monstrous tiger, Kenpachi, that he knew would be sure to break something if he were to get his chance at mating with the blunette.

"Fuckin'...goddamnit," Grimmjow growled as his tail became entangled in greenery and he turned around to frantically swipe at it, hearing that his so-called _suitors _were gaining on him. He hissed in pain as he pulled his tail free, finally breaking through the underbrush and into the deciduous trees. Running at full speed despite the protest from his tired legs he chanced a look behind him, blue eyes widening as he saw that the tiger hybrid was only about fifty feet away and steadily getting closer, the bells that he wore on his ridiculously spiked hair sounding like roaring thunder to Grimmjow's sensitive ears.

"Shit, shit, shit," the panther cursed, turning his head back to look ahead of him as he leapt over a fallen tree trunk and into a part of the forest where the trees suddenly stopped to form a clearing. Grimmjow tried to pick up his pace, knowing he had to make it across that clearing and possibly disappear from view in the dense cluster of trees beyond it in order to escape from the tiger Kenpachi. He could climb up into the branches and-

But Grimmjow's planning was abruptly cut short. The blunette had just entered the clearing, noting that it was much bigger than he expected, and scattered with small boulders that he had to weave around in order to cut across it. He had been so worried about escaping his lust-crazed pursuer that he hadn't caught the scent of another hybrid in the area until it was too late.

A blur of orange shot past him incredibly fast and, startled, he stumbled and it was then that his exhausted legs decided to give out on him. The blue panther hit the ground on all fours, gasping for breath as his bright eyes searched wildly around for what had just run by and must be the cause of the heady, dominant pheromones that made his ears flatten against his turquoise locks of hair.

"_Pretty blue kitty..._" Kenpachi's gruff, disturbing voice was close by and it spurred Grimmjow into escape mode yet again, the blunette pushing off the ground and darting to the closest and largest boulder for cover, knowing that the tiger was too close for him to run away, not with how tired he was. Desperately, he clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds of his heavy breathing and curled in on himself, trying to make his body as small as possible. Just maybe he could hide there until he thought of a better plan.

His tail swished about so much from nerves that he had to use his other hand to keep it still as he listened to the tiger hybrid enter the clearing and Grimmjow could just imagine the manic grin on his scarred face as he sniffed around for him.

_What was he going to do?_

But he was startled out of his thoughts by the same smell from before, the very distinct scent of another male. Shutting his eyes tightly, he prayed that the two other hybrids found each other before him. In the mating season, dominant ones couldn't stand to even look at the sight of another, and it usually resulted in a fight. Perhaps if they got into it, Grimmjow would have the chance to escape.

"Huh...?" Kenpachi's puzzled voice echoed through the clearing as he too caught the smell of another male and not the delectable one of his intended. But soon he saw its origin as something orange and tan blurred with speed before appearing on top on one of the boulders close to him. "Kurosaki," he greeted, his broad, sadistic smile disappearing into a frown.

Grimmjow's ears twitched as he heard the insane hybrid utter the word "Kurosaki", wondering whether it was the name of the other, but he kept as still and quiet as possible.

"Zaraki, I told you to never come on my land again," a pleasant, but monotone baritone sounded from somewhere close by. It had to be the voice of the other hybrid he had smelled earlier, the blur of orange.

"My mate came here by accident, I need to get him back." Grimmjow snarled silently at the lie while hoping intensely that the male whom had spoken wouldn't believe it and told him to get lost, and it seemed luck was finally on his side, _finally_, when the other did speak again.

"Go away, and leave the cub alone or I'll kill you like I should've done years ago," he said with an almost bored tone and Grimmjow could hear Kenpachi's agitated growl and he thought for a second that the two really would fight but then the distinct sound of the tiger hybrid sneaking away through the trees was heard and his unpleasant scent slowly disappeared. Grimmjow could've cheered then, but still kept silent as the male hybrid that had referred to him as a cub (which he thought was unfair because he had reached potency two years before) was still there.

"You can come out now, cub," that same baritone voice called out to him, but still Grimmjow didn't move from his hiding place behind the boulder. Though this hybrid had gotten rid of Kenpachi for him, it didn't get rid of the fact that he was a male (a very dominant one at that, obvious from his scent) and the panther was still wary that the other was likely to jump him were he to reveal himself. But it seemed the other had already thought of this.

"I'm not going to pounce on you like the others. I have more self-control than that," the other chuckled a little bit and Grimmjow thought it sounded rather nice. And, despite his experience with males that had tried to manipulate him into mating, he somehow _believed _that.

Cautiously, he crawled out from his hiding spot, wary blue eyes darting around to locate the owner of the nice voice, which didn't take very long, considering it turned out the other hybrid's coloring was just as bright as his own.

The male was a lion hybrid standing not ten feet away, obvious from the tail that flicked back and forth behind him that was golden up until the orange tuft of fur at the end. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with lightly-tanned, perfect skin, and what had to be the most gorgeous face Grimmjow had ever seen on any hybrid, male or female. But what was really stunning about the lion was the bright orange hair that fell around his shoulders and even more so were the honey-brown, kind eyes that the panther's sharp vision could clearly see sparkling even from a distance.

The blunette felt his body temperature spike, his skin suddenly feeling very warm, _too _warm. That was the other thing he had such a problem with during mating season; he wasn't excluded from its effects on a hybrid's libido. Not at _all_. Whenever he managed to find a good hiding spot from his pursuers, he would usually pleasure himself until he was somewhat satiated enough to try and sleep it off.

But this lion was making him feel hotter than ever before. And the male's scent was washing over him, making him want to arch his back and submit, but he hadn't ever given into the urge before (though this was one was by far the strongest) and he wasn't going to start now.

The orange-haired lion hybrid was giving him a curious stare, handsome head cocked as he placed a clawed finger to his lips.

"What's your name, cub?" he asked, his honey eyes glinting in amusement. Grimmjow snarled, rising to his full height.

"I'm not a cub," he growled, placing his fists on his hips as he squared off with the lion. "And it's Grimmjow," he finished a little snarkily and while most would've been put off by his attitude, it only seemed to delight the other male as he chuckled again.

"Well, _Grimmjow_, you are welcome to stay here until the season is over in a few days. The other males won't come on my territory," the lion hybrid said simply, turning and walking away. Grimmjow stood there for a moment or two, stunned, before running after the other.

"Wait!" he called out, weaving around the large boulders to see that the lion hybrid was already almost in the cluster of trees before he turned around and look curiously at the younger. "Wha's yer name, and why are ya helpin' me?" Grimmjow asked, a little suspiciously. He was positively bewildered by the lion, one who hadn't jumped him in a fit of lust and was being so kind to him, _allowing him to stay on his land_.

"It's Kurosaki, Ichigo Kurosaki, and because if I let you go and you were to be forcefully mated with," Ichigo's eyes narrowed a bit, his gentle smirk flattening into a straight line. "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself."

Grimmjow took a step back in surprise at the words, but quickly recovered when the lion hybrid beckoned for him to follow as he stepped out of the clearing and into the thick forest. The blunette ran after him and they trekked through the dense greenery together.

"Where 'er we goin'?" he called to Ichigo, who was a few feet ahead of him, even with Grimmjow running at full speed. The lion was _fast_.

"I have a den not too far from here, you can stay there until the season is over," Ichigo clarified and just as he said 'den', the panther hybrid spotted what the other male meant by that. They had been running uphill the entire time, on top of a small mountain and they had finally reach the top, into which had been carved a small cave.

Grimmjow followed Ichigo into the cave, seeing the pelts that had been cast onto the floor in order to make for a comfortable sleeping place and a small, flickering fire over which an animal carcass roasted, making the blunette start to salivate. It had been a rather long time since he had had a proper meal, having been on the run for the past few days. He hadn't had time, being constantly chased by those that wouldn't hesitate to pin him to the ground had they the chance.

"You are hungry?" Ichigo asked, sitting down beside the fire and looking up at the panther hybrid with glittering caramel eyes that made the latter feel that unbearable heat in his belly again, so hot that he had to bite down onto his lower lip _hard _with one sharp canine.

Ichigo knew there was no possible way the younger male could no just how beautiful he looked like that, with his ocean water eyes so bright and bronzed skin flushed perfectly. And he had to make an effort to keep from pounce on the panther; he never wanted to take advantage of such a creature. So gruff and yet so innocent. He had never had to exercise such self-control before.

"Sit down," he commanded, looking down at the meat he had set to roast earlier with hard eyes. He had offered the other a safe place to stay and he wouldn't go back on his word.

Grimmjow wondered slightly what he had done wrong, to warrant such an abrupt change in the lion hybrid known as Ichigo, but he sat down anyway, dark teal tail twitching anxiously behind him. But his worries were soon forgotten as the orange-maned male tore off a chunk of meat and offered it to him, the insides looking pink and almost raw, just like he liked it.

Grimmjow wasted no time before nearly ripping the piece of meat out of Ichigo's hands and starting to devour it enthusiastically, white, deadly canines gnashing together as he satiated the hunger that had plagued him for the last few days. He distantly hear Ichigo's faint mirthful chuckle but decided to ignore it.

All too soon his belly was full and he spat a bone onto the floor of the cave, finally looking up to see that Ichigo had also eaten and was now staring at him intently. He licked and sucked the juices off of his fingers, unaware of what such an action did to the other male but all too aware when the lion hybrid tore his gaze away to look at the fire with that same intense stare. Night had fallen by then and Grimmjow watched as the reflection of the flames danced in those fathomless dark orbs. They entranced him, the eyes of the male that even in the height of mating season had yet to treat him like he was some sort of rag doll he could play with for a few days and then be done with.

In fact, Ichigo had treated him more of an equal than anyone else had done ever before.

"You can sleep there," the lion hybrid suddenly said, pointing out the pelts that lay on the cave floor in the corner. Grimmjow raised one thin, blue eyebrow, ears twitching.

"What 'bout you?" he asked, wondering why Ichigo intended to give _him _his only sleeping place. He would be fine just sleeping on the cave floor, he had done so for years now on a lot more uncomfortable places (on high tree branches to escape from wannabe mates for instance...)

"I don't sleep much," Ichigo grunted, raising his eyes to meet with fiery blue, a rueful grin on his face. "But thank you for your concern."

"Oh," Grimmjow said lamely and for lack of nothing of better to do (or say), he moved over to the pelts, curling up on the soft surface of them, his tail wrapping around his waist protectively.

He studied Ichigo's back, strong and tanned with the ends of his long orange hair brushing it ever so slightly. He pondered whether or not the lion hybrid had been teased for his strange coloring too before the blunette's eyes drifted closed, the strange, but amazing, feeling of security lulling him to sleep faster than anything else ever had.

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><p>Grimmjow couldn't have been asleep for longer than a few hours when he felt something unbearably pleasurable wrack through his body, waves of bliss washing over him like they never had before. Lights danced behind his closed eyes as he slowly came to consciousness, utterly confounded at the pleasure he was experiencing and how his whole body seemed to be completely relaxed. In fact, it kind of felt like...<p>

Bright blue eyes shot open to stare directly into deep toffee. And the only sound in the cave was the heavy sound of Grimmjow's breathing as he took in what was going on.

He was still lying on the pelts on the cave floor, but he was no longer alone. Ichigo was laying right beside him, their faces not an inch apart, and the knee-length pants he had been wearing had been pulled down a little, and the lion hybrid's hand was on his...

"Forgive me," Ichigo's words were rushed, his dark eyes wide as he tried to explain himself to the panther hybrid who looked like he had just seen a ghost. "Y-your scent was getting even stronger in your sleep, and I had to do something to make it lessen, or I would have-"

Grimmjow cut him off.

"More," he demanded simply and if it were possible, Ichigo's eyes widened even more. The lion removed his hand and the blunette nearly whimpered at the loss of contact, the erection that Ichigo had given him and was fueled by the lust of mating season meeting the cool night air.

The orange-haired male went to move away, but Grimmjow wrapped his arms around him in a sudden, desperate gesture.

"More," the panther repeated, his normally bright and wild eyes had darkened with lust as he held Ichigo in place, whom narrowed his eyes but bit his lip as he was now in a similar condition to the other, throbbing manhood and all. Mating season had its effect on him, too.

"Do you-ah," Ichigo nearly choked on his words as the blunette rubbed against him, tawny, soft flesh sliding against in him in all the right places. "Do you know what you are getting yourself into, cub?"

Grimmjow just bit down on the strong column of his neck, sucking in a way he would've never expected of such a seemingly virginal hybrid, one who ran away from all sexual advances. Ichigo moaned, running his hands up the panther's back to entangle themselves in silken, cerulean locks of hair to gently pull the hybrid away from his neck.

"Yer the only one who's been nice ta me and ya made my dick hard," Grimmjow replied as if it were the simplest thing in the world, looking rather ravishing as one canine protruded from his lips and he looked up at Ichigo with obvious want. "So hurry up and fuck me already."

Ichigo's control snapped like a twig underfoot and before he could think better of the situation, that he may have been taking advantage of an inexperienced, aroused teenaged-hybrid, he bent forward and captured the other's lips with his own.

Grimmjow nearly yelped in surprise as he experienced his first kiss but just as his mouth opened, Ichigo's tongue darted inside to massage his own and he felt his eyes slowly start to close as he brought his hands up to grasp at the lion hybrid's orange locks of hair. It felt incredibly good, like he never would have imagined, and he instinctively tilted his head so that Ichigo could kiss him more deeply, slight smacking sounds filling the cave as they continued to kiss. But he was eager to feel more of that earth-shattering bliss he had felt earlier and he rocked his hips into Ichigo's, feeling the other male's large erection brush against his and it made him groan and continue doing so enthusiastically.

Ichigo brushed his hands over one of Grimmjow's silky ears, feeling the other shudder at the action, and so he scratched behind it, stunned when the blunette began to _purr_, like a small house cat. Pulling away suddenly, he looked down at the purring panther hybrid looking utterly debauched with kiss swollen, saliva coated, red lips and heavily hooded dark sapphire eyes that were swimming pools of desire. On another day, he would experiment with what other sensations made the blunette purr like that, but for now, he had to satiate the both of them, and _quickly_.

He kissed a trail down Grimmjow's jaw and neck, biting down on the pulse point so hard his canine sank into the sensitive flesh and made the other male shiver in delight and pain before he continued his way down the panther's lithe chest, leaving small love bites and marks along the way.

As soon as he reached where he had earlier removed Grimmjow's erection from his pants when he had been asleep, he wrapped a large hand around it, causing the owner to his and buck wildly into his grip, making him chuckle a little in amusement. So young and inexperienced...it turned him on in ways he never even thought possible.

Meanwhile Grimmjow was cursing himself for never having done this sooner. His eyes were shut tight as Ichigo's hand wrapped around his cock and began to pump, the earlier waves of pleasure returning and wrapping him up in their cocoon of blissful madness. He had certainly never felt this good when he had been touching himself, desperately trying to get rid of the heat that came with mating season. But that was all nothing when Ichigo lowered his mouth onto his erect member, sucking gently at the head.

Grimmjow cried out, hands grasping at orange locks of hair as he bucked upwards and further into Ichigo's mouth, whom placed a restraining hand on his hip as he bobbed his head up and down. Cyan eyes flickered open to reveal the utterly entrancing sight of the lion hybrid taking him as far into his mouth as possible, the sensation making him want to shed tears. It was _that _incredible, and he could feel his body releasing more of the submissive scent that he had cursed for nearly two years now and couldn't be bothered to care about at the moment, too thoroughly wrapped up in Ichigo's dominant, musky one that made him feel deliciously heavy.

Ichigo groaned as he caught the deliriously sweet scent that Grimmjow emanated, unwittingly causing the other even more pleasure from the vibrations the sound caused. Unable to hold back any longer, he pulled off of the now pulsing cock, an uncharacteristic whine escaping the blunette panther's mouth as he did so. He sucked on one of his own clawed fingers whilst pulling the knee-length pants off of Grimmjow completely, nearly tearing the fabric apart in his haste.

Grimmjow watched as the lion hybrid wet his digits and felt a slight tingle of nerves under the heavy waves of lust. It must have shown on his face for when Ichigo looked back up to him, the other male didn't hesitate before raising himself to hover directly above him and capture his lips once more. There was passion there, something they could both say wasn't familiar to them, and Grimmjow gripped Ichigo's face in his hands, keeping the other male there as it seemed they would suck each other's souls from their bodies as they kissed somewhat sloppily (not that either of them cared about technique at that point.)

Ichigo slid his hands up Grimmjow's toned thighs until his forefinger found the panther hybrid's entrance, circling it before pushing through. He broke apart from the other, watching as the blue eyes fluttered open, unease there under the desire.

"Is this alright?" he asked, trying not to catch any more of the other's scent that would most likely be his undoing and _really _make him lose all sense of self and plow into the blunette unmercifully.

"Yeah," Grimmjow breathed, resisting the urge to squirm as two of Ichigo's fingers entered him. There was slight burn that accompanied the stretch, especially when those two digits started to make a scissoring motion as they went deeper inside of him. But then one of those fingertips brushed against a spot far within him that had him arching his back wantonly and crying out as his clawed fingers tightened their hold on Ichigo's shoulder.

He was panting madly as the orange-maned lion hybrid continued to strike that sweet spot, massaging it with the pads of his fingers, and he swore he would go insane with pleasure. That was, until suddenly, Ichigo's fingers were gone from inside of him, leaving him feeling strangely...empty.

Ichigo looked up at the writhing mess of blunette he had created and smirked ruefully, male pride swelling up in him even as he lined himself up with that blunette's entrance, which made Grimmjow's eyes snap open from where they had been shut in bliss to lock gazes with him. He knew what the panther was thinking, that hybrids always took their mate from behind, but he didn't want that, Ichigo wanted to stare into those foreverly blue eyes and that flushed, perfectly beautiful face as he entered the other male that seemed to be made for him. And so he did.

Grimmjow had to restrain himself from punching Ichigo across the jaw as the lion's large cock pushed into his virgin entrance, stretching him beyond what he thought capable. Instead he tried to catch his breath as he gasped wildly, clawing at Ichigo's shoulder so hard as to draw blood, not that the other seemed to mind as he ran his hands up and down Grimmjow's sides soothingly, one hand then wrapping his softening erection in order to bring him more pleasure.

If Ichigo thought he had had to use his seemingly endless well of patience before, he really had to as Grimmjow's tight warmth encircled him, feeling better than anything else ever had before in his entire life. He opened his eyes to stare down into the blunette's flushed, wincing face in order to bring himself back down to earth as he fully seated himself inside. He slowly pumped Grimmjow's cock, watching and feeling as the panther slowly got used to the full feeling of having something so large inside of him.

"Can I move?" Ichigo's voice was strained with restricted bliss and he could've cried when Grimmjow just nodded, prompting for him to pull back out slightly before rocking back in gently. He would take it slow at first; he didn't want to hurt the other, not when he had so freely given himself up to Ichigo.

Grimmjow had never felt so strange, such a warring mix of pain and pleasure as Ichigo thrusted in and out of him. The stretch _hurt_, there was no doubt about it, but there was something about being taken by someone so gorgeous that had him mentally whimpering in ecstasy. Well, that is, until the head of Ichigo's manhood hit that special spot inside of him, and then it was no longer mentally, but very, _very _vocally.

Hearing Grimmjow's near shot of pleasure, Ichigo smirked and gripped the back of the panther's knees, pushing them up to the other male's chest so that he could easily buck in and out of the blunette, hitting that spot that made the normally gruff Grimmjow panting and moaning so loud and fast that he could hardly get his next words out.

"H-harder," he commanded and Ichigo could do nothing but obey the submissive below him, groaning in ecstasy when the blunette's hips started to rise to meet his thrusts as they rutted against each other like the animals in heat they were. Ichigo removed one of his hands from the panther's right knee in order to wrap it around the pink cock that was so hard it hurt.

It didn't take long for either of them to reach their apex, Grimmjow's first climax with another washing over him like a tidal wave as he swore loudly, milky white substance bursting forth from his member so hard it wet both his and Ichigo's chests. The resulting clenching of his muscles brought Ichigo over the edge as well, grunting as he released his seed deep within Grimmjow.

Dazed and gasping for breath, they both collapsed onto the pelts, bodies intertwined. After a silent moment or so they looked over to each other, taking in their mirrored flushed expressions while something akin to a smoldering fire burned in both of their eyes. There's always something different after a hybrid mates with another, they can't have the detachment a normal human can. Their instincts pull at something much deeper inside of them, bonding them to their mate for life. Needless to say, Grimmjow was glad to have that bond with Ichigo and not the many other males that had pursued him.

Perhaps the mating season, for the both of them, wouldn't be either lonely or hellish, but maybe just the opposite.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I hope you all enjoyed. I know I did, I love me some uke Grimm, though I never really write it. Hahaha, how does it feel to be subjected to my uke torture, Grimmy? I'm sure Ichi enjoyed the break.

Oh, and yes, I thought my title was lul. :D

_I'm lame, I know..._

Sacred Part II will most likely be the next to be posted, so stay tuned! :)


	6. GrimmIchi Sacred Part II

**Summary: **Ichigo is the pharaoh of Lower Egypt who has been slighted by the pharaoh of the Upper region, Aizen. In order to curry favor, Pharaoh Aizen offers one of his prized slaves, Grimmjow, whom has said to be one of the most beautiful and possibly sacred as his coloring likens him to water, which is the most sacred element to the Egyptians. Ichigo takes quite a liking to his new slave, especially after he discovers Grimmjow's unbreakable spirit and heart underneath the rough yet beautiful exterior.

**Warnings: **Historical AU, yaoi, lemon, slavery, violence (this includes a whipping scene, and no not in the fun way.) Oh, and forgive me if this is not entirely historically accurate with timeline and the like (in fact, it probably isn't.) I'm not a _huge _Ancient Egypt buff.

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><p><strong>Sacred - Part II<strong>

A Grimmjow/Ichigo set in Ancient Egypt

Written for **SilverEternity**

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><p>Grimmjow wrapped the dark cloth tighter around him, completely obscuring his hair and most of his face and body, only his hands and sandal clad feet visible as the cloak wasn't long enough to cover them. Once he was satisfied that no one would be able to recognize him, he stepped out of the shadows, blue eyes darting around to assure him that no guards were around.<p>

There weren't, just like he knew there wouldn't be. He'd taken this route too many times to count, carefully picked out for the way he could take it without being spotted by anyone. There was no doubt that if he were to be identified leaving the palace, he would be severely punished, even executed. People like him had no right to leave the place of their enslavement.

Although, it was getting hard to remember that he was indeed a slave, worth less than the sand they all walked on. In the past few months, in this palace, he had been treated with more kindness and respect than had been shown to him in the past twenty years combined. He truly thought the high priestess Orihime was a godsend, the most patient woman he had ever known, her never-ending well of serenity and charity apparent whilst she had taught him how to read and write and basic arithmetic and etiquette. He felt truly grateful to have met her.

But then again, it was all to easy to remember his place whenever in the presence of the orange-haired pharaoh that had given him such an opportunity. Those sparkling, cocoa brown eyes of the ruler haunted his dreams, plaguing him like a wonderful, fatal illness. There was something about that gentle smile that seemed to be just for him that just would not leave his mind alone.

He had never found another man to be beautiful before, but the Pharaoh was certainly that, and somehow, Grimmjow found himself regretting not having been willing that first time they had met. He _wanted _so desperately to touch the other man, to _take _and be _taken_. He wasn't afraid any longer. In fact, if he thought about it, ever since he had first seen the Pharaoh, he never had been. That sun-kissed skin and lithe body and gorgeous, sultry eyes had awakened something in him that he'd never known was there to begin with, like a deep, aching hunger.

But the Pharaoh had dismissed him upon seeing his hesitance and now, Grimmjow would never get his chance to actually touch the orange-haired man like he so badly wanted to. It wasn't okay, but that was his life.

Touching the hilt of the long, jagged dagger at his side under the dark cloak in reassurance, he took off. He knew the way out of the palace like he knew the back of his hand, having taken it many, many times over the past few months.

Night had already fallen, but strategically placed torches lit his way, casting eerie shadows and light over the tan, stone buildings and the sand below them. He passed palm trees and the holy temples before coming to the village that lay just outside of the palace and its surrounding buildings. He stepped out of the darkness that he had hid in, in order to escape notice from the watchful guards, now free to walk amongst the dwindling crowd. At the end of the path he was on, between two palms, was a public tavern, lit with both small lanterns and the laughs and merry cries of the people inside.

Grimmjow knew they would be waiting for him, just as they did every night, and he wasn't surprised at all when there was a hearty shout of mixed glee and outrage as soon as he stepped into the tavern and a feral grin split his lips, the whiteness of his teeth glinting in the dim torchlight.

A tall, hulking beast of a man with a shaved head and earring in his left ear stood from his cushion, a somber expression on his large face.

"So you have come again, cloaked stranger," he said, unsheathing his scythe-shaped sword, making Grimmjow chuckle maniacally under his breath. "Are you man enough to show your face this time?"

"If you can beat me, I'll show you my face," Grimmjow told the man mockingly, whipping his long, cruel-looking dagger (that he would surely be punished severely for having were anyone at the palace to find out) from underneath his cloak.

No more words were said before the colossal man attacked, striking down with his sword that Grimmjow easily deflected, spinning out of the way to give the man a shallow slash across the shoulder.

This was where he truly came alive, fighting strangers in a tavern at night incognito, where he broke free of the proverbial chains that he had been shackled with his entire life, because he did not have the heart of a slave, but a fighter, and he would always fight. And he just wished that the Pharaoh with hair like the sunset could see him now, not playing the subservient serf role, but being the warrior he was meant to be.

* * *

><p>Ichigo couldn't believe what he was seeing, it couldn't be real.<p>

When he had been enjoying his nightly walk around the part of his palace that was mostly empty around that time (and enjoying being alone for once), he had nearly bowled over at the sight of his exotic, blue-haired slave at one of the entryways, wrapping a dark cloak around himself. And it certainly did not escape Ichigo that the man had a long dagger strapped to his waist before it disappeared under the diaphanous but opaque fabric.

_Was the man trying to leave the palace?_

He had felt a strange mixture of anger, hurt, and loss at the thought and it completely confounded him, and he only knew that he would _not _allow Grimmjow to leave the palace.

However, before Ichigo could move to put the man in his place, a slender hand had wrapped around his wrist and stopped him. Wondering who dared to touch their Pharaoh in such a way, he whirled around to face none other than the high priestess Orihime with a serene expression on her beautiful face, a dark cloak, identical to the one Grimmjow had donned, in the hand that wasn't on his arm.

And so, at her insistence, he had followed the blue-haired male in his first venture outside of the palace alone. It was invigorating, being left by himself to walk about the surrounding village outside of the palace walls and he would have normally used the opportunity to explore every nook and cranny he'd never seen, but for now he had a strict objective, to follow Grimmjow to wherever the blue-haired slave was headed.

He watched from a distance, cloak firmly wrapped around his face in order to conceal his identity, as the blunette strode right into the local tavern, almost like he had been there several times before. Frowning, Ichigo followed, but pressed right up against the outside wall of the small, stone building so that he could see through the crudely built window just what happened next.

With widened eyes, he watched as Grimmjow, after only mere seconds of being inside the tavern, was attacked by a massive, bald man. Ichigo itched to interfere, for what could a slave know about defending himself? But he realized that he was weaponless, having been careless enough to forget to bring any of his swords with him. Cursing under his breath, he took in the scene, his heart beating far too fast.

Grimmjow deflected the blow, and the many that came after. He was fierce, flawless, every move he made graceful and deadly. Ichigo has never seen the likes of it, not at all, not even among the fighting styles of his own personal guard. Perhaps the blue-haired man could even teach him a thing or two. Perhaps he_ was_ touched by the gods, after all...

Was this what his sister had wanted him to see; was this what Grimmjow had risked his life leaving the palace to do, to only fight civilians with no purpose at all?

Within minutes, the Pharaoh had witnessed his slave take down all of the men whom had dared to enter into a fight with the blunette, not dealing any of them fatal blows, just enough to put them in their place. Ichigo was mesmerized completely; if he had thought that Grimmjow was beautiful beforehand, now he was infinitely more so, and the monarch felt a familiar warmth in the pit of his belly and a strange beam of delicious nerves at the sight of his own divine serf display such battle prowess. It was both desire and something he had never felt before and he wasn't quite sure what to call the feeling.

In his trance, he barely had time to press himself completely against the wall so as not to be seen when Grimmjow stepped out of the tavern, untouched and still cloaked in dark fabric so as not to be identified by his strange blue hair. Ichigo held his breath as the slave's cloaked form halted in its tracks and the covered head turned in his direction. He could barely move as, even in the dark of the night, those phosphorescent blue orbs pinned him in place as he locked gazes with the slave.

"Your majesty." Grimmjow's voice was nearly a growl, as if he was displeased that Ichigo was there, which was understandable as he most likely expected that the pharaoh would punish him for sneaking out of the palace and roughing up several civilians. "It's not safe for you to be out here alone," he added, the feral grin he had worn while fighting replaced with a tight-lipped frown and it was a few moments before Ichigo found his voice.

"It is not your place to tell me what is and what is not safe," he said quietly, not wanting to be overheard by any passerby, and in light of the unfamiliar situation, his voice was not as firm as he would have liked it to be.

"Forgive me," was all Grimmjow said before turning back around and walking away. Ichigo could have sworn that the tips of his ears turned red in a way they hadn't since he was a very small child at being dismissed like such. Making sure the cloak he had on still hid his easily recognized face from view, he stalked after his slave.

"Where are you going?" he nearly hissed, causing Grimmjow to pause and Ichigo have to stop immediately, lest he run into the larger man's back.

"Back to the palace, your majesty," the blue-haired slave stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Ichigo frowned.

"I will walk with you," the orange-haired ruler commanded, falling into place beside his slave. It was possibly the oddest thing that had ever happened in his young life, and somehow also the most natural, it felt _right _to walk beside the other man. Grimmjow said nothing, just nodded his assent and the two walked through the almost empty, narrow streets.

For some reason he wasn't completely sure of, Ichigo disliked the quiet between him and his inferior.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" he demanded to know, looking over at Grimmjow, whose eyes were glued to the ground as they continued to walk.

"I just picked it up, I suppose...your majesty," he added almost as an afterthought. Ichigo just hummed in response, not sure if the blunette was telling him the truth or not. However, before he could even begin to truly ponder that, a sudden gust of wind nearly blew them over and Ichigo had to raise his hands in order to keep the disturbed sand from getting into his eyes.

Once it passed, he looked over to Grimmjow, whose head was now raised, eyes darting in all directions. He heard the man swear lowly (or what he thought must be a swear, because he had never actually heard that word until that moment) before very suddenly, his wrist was seized in a large, warm hand and he was being dragged down the street and an adjacent alleyway.

"Wha-where are we going?" Ichigo nearly squawked in surprise. _No one _had ever manhandled him, and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it but was too stunned to really say or do anything. In fact, if it had been anyone else he may have been immediately suspicious of such an action, but for some unfathomable reason...he trusted Grimmjow. And it unnerved him how he could lose his composure like such in front of such a lowly creature, a _slave_ for Amun-Ra's sake.

"Sandstorm," the blue-haired man grunted, completely dropping the 'your majesty' (which normally would've irked Ichigo had he not been wildly looking around for said sandstorm.)

"What? We have to get back to the palace, now," the pharaoh demanded, pulling on Grimmjow's vice-like grip but not succeeding in breaking it.

"There's no time," the slave growled before nearly tossing Ichigo onto the crowd, whom, again, was not used to being bodily thrown about like such and collapsed against the wall of the tallest building Grimmjow had been able to find. It was not a moment too soon either as he was stunned into silence by his exotic slave ripping off his cloak and revealing the short, white tunic he wore underneath (not to mention his shock of blue hair) and the man dropping next to him so that they were pressed together before wrapping the thick fabric around them.

Ichigo could almost pay the sudden, extremely strong wind that circled around them no mind, as he was still trying to comprehend how it felt to be flush with Grimmjow's chest, the man huddled over him, arms wrapped around the orange-haired ruler's shoulders as the slave shielded them against the sand being blown about with the cloak. Yes, he had been protected many a time from stray assassins and the like by his royal guards, but this...this was so much more _intimate_.

He wasn't meant to be protected, he was the _protector_, the protector of his people, someone who never needed protecting. And yet, somehow, he liked it, loved every second of it as he was so intimately guarded from the elements by someone as beautiful as Grimmjow. No, by _Grimmjow_. Period.

It was a few minutes before the winds completely died down and Ichigo raised his cinnamon eyes to stare at Grimmjow.

They had never been so close before, mere inches apart under that cloak, seemingly completely separated from the world around them. And those sapphires that Grimmjow had for eyes were sucking his very soul out of his body; there was no doubt that the man had been touched by the gods, for no one could so very stunning in that moment if they weren't divine in some way.

Ichigo was a pharaoh, one of the most powerful people in the world, a god in human form. If he wanted something, he took it, always. And yet, somehow, something stopped him from leaning forward those few inches and claiming those full, delicious lips that were rightfully his. Nothing before had ever felt as forbidden as that beautiful pink flesh and it left him panting with want, not breaking away from that cerulean gaze for one second.

Suddenly Ichigo found himself naming the strange tingle he had felt earlier when he had seen Grimmjow fighting those civilians, the one he felt right at that moment, the one he had never felt before, the one that was making the blue-haired man that was technically his property feel like the proverbial forbidden fruit.

It was love. And it felt _terrible_.

"We should get moving...your majesty," Grimmjow broke the silence, ripping the cloak away so that he could stand once again, offering a hand to the ruler that still sat on the ground.

"Ichigo." At Grimmjow's curious look, the orange-haired man clarified, taking the proffered hand and feeling something like desert lightning shoot up his arm at the contact. "Call me Ichigo," he stated, knowing he didn't have to say that he only wanted the other to do so when they were alone just this once.

"Anything you wish..._Ichigo_."

* * *

><p>Grimmjow felt ridiculous. If he'd thought he's been gussied up when he'd first been presented to the Pharaoh as a gift, that was nothing compared to how he looked now.<p>

A few hours before then, the high priestess Orihime had told him that instead of them having their usual lesson that day, he would be filling in for a servant girl that had fallen ill earlier that day.

Apparently the girl had been expected to serve at some gathering of lesser nobles in the palace, but there was some sort of sickness going around and she and several other girls had caught it, and so there was no one else but the males to take her place and Orihime had chosen him as he was the most aesthetically pleasing male slave or servant in the palace. Of course, when he had asked the high priestess why there couldn't just be six servers at this gathering instead of seven she had just given him a blank stare and said "But there's always seven."

Needless to say, he had been made to endure being made up with the eye paint he so hated and layers upon layers of gold jewelry, including some kind of circlet embedded with sapphires "to match his eyes", fastened onto him forcibly. And there he stood, looking like some sort of little girl's doll and carrying a plate of fruit he would much rather be eating than serving in the reception hall as the nobles openly stared at him.

Grimmjow felt a vein ticking on his forehead, but managed to keep his impulsive mouth shut as they circled and eyed him cautiously like some sort of wild animal being kept in a cage. It wasn't unusual for his coloring to make him into some sort of novelty, but this was ridiculous.

"Slave," one of the noble women addressed him, and though she was several heads shorter she somehow managed to look down on him. "Is it true that the Pharaoh has made his slaves and servants learn to read and write?"

At the mention of the Pharaoh, of _Ichigo_, Grimmjow's mind was automatically propelled into thoughts of the stunning monarch, the only man, person, he had ever found attractive, enchanting even. So consumed in his thoughts of the man, he almost forgot to answer the noble woman.

"Yes, my lady," he answered gruffly, practicing the proper etiquette Orihime had taught to him, causing the noble woman to titter unattractively.

"The Pharaoh always did have a soft spot for the inferior,it may get him into trouble one day," she chuckled, turning and slinking away, leaving Grimmjow to grip the sides of his tray firmly. The woman wouldn't have dared to say something like that had the Pharaoh not been chariot racing until late afternoon that day.

However, the two noble men that had been at her side didn't follow, but rather stayed by Grimmjow, closing in on him from either side. Had the blue-haired man been a cat, his hackles would have been raised as he hissed, so wary he was of them, one a rather short and squat man with too much eyeshadow and the other a tall, lanky nobleman that reeked of smelling salts.

"Mmm, don't let Anukh bother you, slave, she is just jealous of such a fine specimen," the short one drawled, stepping in even closer. Grimmjow resisted the urge to fling the tray of fruit away from him and run far, far away. Instead, he shivered as the taller one plucked a grape from the tray and into his mouth.

"Yes, a fine specimen indeed," he murmured in agreement, his voice so sleazy it made Grimmjow shudder involuntarily.

"Tell me, slave, have you shared the Pharaoh's bed yet? Surely you must have...what a sight that must have been." The short nobleman was now not a foot from his left side and the taller one was in a similar position, making Grimmjow feel like a cornered animal, and it wasn't far from the point where he would lash out, even as he made indents into the gold tray in an effort to contain himself.

"Hmm, yes, it must have been. Is the Pharaoh just as talented as he looks to be? I'd imagine from the way he acts, he must be very vocal. What a pleasure it must be to bed him," the tall one put his two cents in.

Grimmjow was literally shaking with anger; they could spend all day and night talking of him, but they had insulted the Pharaoh, the one that had shown him a kindness he could never forget, the one whom had insisted he call him Ichigo. And when the tall nobleman's hand grazed over his backside, it was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Barely thinking, as he was so apt to do, he dropped the tray of fruit to the ground where it clattered loudly before swinging around so that he could deliver a swift blow across the tall nobleman's jaw, which caused the repulsive man to fall to the ground, clutching his face.

There was silence in the reception hall, you could've heard a pin drop onto the floor.

Grimmjow's eyes widened as he realized what he had done, looking from his still clenched fist to the nobleman on the ground, whom was still holding his jaw as he shakily pointed a finger at him.

"Guards!" was all he had to call before Grimmjow was seized from all sides by the palace guards. he didn't even bother to struggle as he was restrained by them, looking on as the noblemen pushed himself off of the ground, finger still pointed at his face.

"You'll pay for this, _slave_. I believe it's been a while since a satisfactory public whipping."

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><p>To say that Ichigo was positively boiling with an all-consuming, burning rage would not have done even a fraction of his anger justice.<p>

He had been chariot racing that day and had come home to his palace happily exhausted, only to sense something was terribly wrong and proven that his senses were right when he was told that the blue-haired slave was being publicly _whipped _for an incident that had occurred earlier in the reception hall.

Ichigo had rushed to the place where such a thing would be held, immediately spotting the slave, the man, he had come to love on his knees while a nobleman cracked him with a leather whip across his normally flawless (but now stained with fuchsia and crimson) back. Once the crowd had noticed him, they had all automatically dropped to their prostrate positions, including the two noblemen on the platform. He couldn't keep his eyes from roving over Grimmjow and the injuries the whipping had incurred, his anger swelling to new heights.

"Just _what _is going on here?" he asked, infuriated, blazing eyes darker than the starless night sky sweeping over the stoic and shaking noblemen, disgusted by their actions.

"My liege, I was only exercising my right to inflict punishment upon the slave who dared to strike someone so above his station," the stoic one replied, not daring to raise his eyes from the ground.

"You do not have such a right," Ichigo stated, his voice cold fire, causing the nobleman to look up with surprised eyes.

"Y-your majesty, forgive-"

"No, you do not have the right to touch what belongs to_ me_. You are hereby banished." Ichigo knew it was a harsh punishment to dish out for such an infarction, but he didn't deny to himself for one second that his personal feelings got in the way. Ignoring the man's pleas for his forgiveness, he turned to his personal guards, gesturing towards Grimmjow.

"See to it that the slave is tended to by the high priestess Orihime immediately," he ordered, stepping off the platform, not even daring to make eye contact with the injured, blue-haired man. Doing so would surely result in him slashing up the nobleman that dared to touch what was rightfully his, what he loved.

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><p>Grimmjow lay on his stomach, cushioned by large, lush pillows. The sun was just disappearing over the horizon and it cast its dying, warm glow over him as he stared out of the large window just a few feet away from him, his view partially obscured by all of the translucent drapery that was hung about the room he was in. He was only clad in his undergarments so that his injured back could be tended to by the high priestess Orihime, whom turned out to be quite talented at healing. But still there was a dull ache that occasionally turned into a sharp, stinging pain, mostly in between his shoulder blades where he taken most of the whip's blows.<p>

It had been two full days since the Pharaoh had interfered on his behalf and since then he had been in this room, tended to by Orihime every so often. She had taken quite a liking to painting his face when he was unable to stop her and her latest design, teal eyeshadow dashed under his eyes in two swoops, was still on his face.

Huffing in frustration at being in the same position and finding that his chest was starting to ache from trying to breathe deeply while laying on it, Grimmjow slowly drew his knees up and pushed himself up to a sitting position, ever so gently resting his back against the opulent pillows behind him. Letting out a sigh of relief, he wiped the sweat from his brow and turned to watch the sky once more. It was one of those days where the sun took its sweet time disappearing over the horizon, the resulting sunset glow seemingly lasting an eternity. Not that he minded, of course. It was beautiful.

A sudden rustling from the drapery that was strewn about the room caught his attention, sharp blue eyes instantly zeroing in on who was entering only to widen when they saw just who it was.

The Pharaoh of Lower Egypt looked rather casual, wearing none of his usual embellishments, no gold jewelry, no kohl lining his eyes, no headpiece; he was even barefoot. He only wore just a simple, short white tunic that came to about mid-thigh and revealed toned, long legs that Grimmjow found a strange desire to run his hands over their tanned skin and then have them wrapped around his waist. A pleasant baritone voice broke him out of his daze.

"I see you are recovering well," the orange-haired man said, walking closer to the mount of pillows Grimmjow rested on. Briefly the blunette wondered whether or not he was still supposed to bow, but he didn't have time to even respond verbally before the ruler had knelt by his side as if they were equals. Having the seemingly unobtainable, sultry-eyed monarch at eye-level the only time other than when Grimmjow had shielded the both of them from the desert winds was positively exhilarating and sent the slave's heart into a pace too fast to be healthy. "I apologize for not having stopped that..._abuse _sooner."

The Pharaoh's cocoa brown eyes turned somber but also burned with passion and Grimmjow realized that the other's knees were not even a hand's breadth away from his thigh. It was getting harder to breathe as time went on, but he found his voice, buried under a mountain of nerves and, dare he admit it, desire.

"It was careless of me, your majesty. I deserved it," he said somewhat sounding uncharacteristically pitiful. The Pharaoh's full lips thinned into a frown, thin, orange brows pulling together.

"I thought I told you to call me Ichigo," the ruler said softly, eyes the color of cinnamon sparking with an emotion Grimmjow couldn't decipher. The blunette said nothing in response, unsure of quite what to say, and the orange-maned pharaoh leaned forward so that they were even closer. Grimmjow unconsciously shifted, his nerves soaring to new heights, causing him to wince a little as the movement pulled at his wounds.

"Are you in pain?" the pharaoh's slightly panicked voice filled the room. "I'll call for the hi-"

"No!" Grimmjow's impulsive behavior bested him and he called out before he thinking. He didn't want anyone to come into the room and ruin the rare time he had with the other man alone. "I-I'm fine, your majesty."

"Ichigo," the pharaoh insisted, his frown picking up into a slight smile, coaxing a similar one out of Grimmjow.

"Ichigo," he repeated softly, watching with his intense blue gaze as the orangette he now knew as Ichigo crept closer to his still form, hand hesitantly reaching out to run the soft fingertips that could only belong to a nobleman over his cheekbone, which must have been flushed with anticipation.

"Allow me to atone for what my subjects did to you," Ichigo whispered so softly it might as well have been like he was breathing. Grimmjow was bewildered by the statement; it had been enough that the monarch had interfered on his behalf, but now he was offering some sort of consolation? What would he offer, some gold coins? A slave didn't really have any use for such things unless they were enough to buy his way out of slavery. But...Grimmjow found himself thinking that even if he were to have freedom, he may be all he had dreamed it would be if it meant being without Ichigo.

"Wha-" but he never got to finish his query, because Ichigo pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. The other man's eyes had darkened to the point where they looked like dark pools of warm obsidian and they entranced Grimmjow like some sort of ancient spell.

"They made you feel bad," Ichigo bent forward so that they were so close their breath intertwined in the air. "Let _me _make you feel good." His words were so provocative in their simplicity, the way he spoke with such base words and in such an..._erotic _tone. It reduced Grimmjow's mind to nothing.

There was a few moments of absolute silence, even their heavy breathing soundless in the room alit with the sunset's glow that made both of their opposing hair and eye colors sparkle in the light, divine sun fire and water. It was truly a sight that would make anyone drop to their knees in reverence.

Grimmjow lifted his hands, careful to keep his back still, and daringly, perhaps even foolishly, cradled Ichigo's face, thumbs brushing over perfectly defined cheekbones.

"I'd like that, _Ichigo_," was all he said before bringing their lips together.

It was the first time he had ever kissed a man, and it made all of his past, lackluster experiences crumble into dust. Ichigo's lips were the softest thing he had ever felt as they pressed and moved against his own. Somehow it felt like drinking a deep pull of crystal clear, cold water after spending years in the desert, as if Grimmjow had always longed for this.

The orangette let out a soft moan and the blunette felt the other entangle his slender but capable hands in his hair, pulling on it slightly. Groaning at the feeling, he ran his own hands down the other's long neck and toyed with the bright sunset strands of hair that fell onto bronzed shoulders. He wanted to feel every part of the monarch, the god in human form. Grimmjow obediently parted his lips when Ichigo's tongue swept against them, the pink muscle curling around his and exploring the wet, hot cavern of his orifice before the slave became emboldened and started to fight for dominance, running his tongue along Ichigo's teeth. The other man shuddered and Grimmjow felt a need to hold him close, and so he did, placing a large, broad hand on the small of Ichigo's back and pressing them flush together, the latter's legs parting to straddle his lap as they continued to kiss as if it were the last kiss they would ever have.

The sound of Ichigo's moans and occasional whimpers had a familiar heat pooling in Grimmjow's groin, blood rushing straight from his head to his manhood, and the fact that Ichigo's pert backside was rubbing against him was certainly furthering his condition. He trailed his light touch down the other's spine until he came to said rump and gripped the globes of flesh in his hands, causing Ichigo to cry out and break apart.

Grimmjow's ensuing chuckle had his chest rumbling, but his cockiness was soon dispelled by Ichigo laying hot, open-mouthed kisses down his strong jaw and the column of his neck to his chest, exposed by his lack of clothing except for the undergarment he still wore.

"You...are...so...beautiful," the orangette whispered between kisses, laving his tongue over the blunette's dusky, caramel nipple until it hardened under his ministrations. Grimmjow responded by continuing to massage Ichigo's backside, loving the feeling of that firm, but malleable flesh under his hands.

"_You_ are the beautiful one," he said in a husky voice that would have turned any man or woman to a quivering mess had they heard it. Ichigo looked like he was about to argue the issue further, but instead he seized Grimmjow by the back of his neck and pulled him in for another searing, bone-melting kiss. The slave thought he may just combust into flames from the pure heat that was radiating throughout his body and he hissed as he felt Ichigo's obvious arousal poke him in the abdomen. It turned him on unimaginably to feel that the other man was just as moved by this as he was.

Ichigo broke away once again, a trail of saliva clinging to his sharp chin before his pink tongue flicked out to lick it up. Grimmjow nearly whined at the sight, the monarch with his orange mane tousled and sultry, dark eyes nearly blazing with desire and rosy lips swollen from their kissing; never had he seen someone look so _debauched _before and he felt himself harden even more, if that was possible.

Ichigo must have noticed this because a smug little smirk crossed his face and then he was pressing kisses to Grimmjow's chest once more, teasingly not paying any attention to the other man's nipples as he made his way down to the fine, chiseled lines of the blunette's abdomen and then even lower...

Grimmjow exhaled sharply as Ichigo's fingers dipped into the beginning of his undergarments and one of his hands came up to entangle in those silken, orange locks as the pharaoh pulled away the white linen slowly to reveal the blunette's erect member, bobbing as it was freed from its confines. Obviously Ichigo saw something he liked because he wasted no time before wrapping one of his hands around the base in a firm grip, which had Grimmjow moaning and leaning his head against the pillows behind him as the other began to pump him, sapphire eyes fluttering closed.

Only to snap open when he felt Ichigo's warm breath fan over the dark pink head of his erection and then the slight, wet touch of the orangette's tongue. Grimmjow's hold in the man's hair tightened as he held his breath watching the other man slowly took his manhood in between those lovely, full lips. He had never felt anything like it, definitely not with any of the common wenches that had been his experience up until that point.

It was incredible, that warm wetness around his cock as Ichigo slid his mouth down the shaft at an almost cruel pace, that talented tongue beginning to work its wonderful magic as it caressed the sensitive flesh.

"You're...amazing," Grimmjow managed to choke out and was rewarded when Ichigo hummed in response, the vibrations around his member feeling so absolutely amazing he wasn't sure if he was still in the mortal world or not.

The orange-haired pharaoh bobbed his head up and down, occasionally pulling away to lap at the head, collecting the juices that gathered there on the tip of his tongue. And when those erotic, ochre eyes looked up through vermilion lashes to lock with blazing blue, Grimmjow almost lost himself then and there, all of the muscles in his body clenching and unclenching uncontrollably. But Ichigo seemed to sense this and broke away completely, wiping his mouth almost delicately with the back of his hand.

Bewildering Grimmjow, he took the hand that was placed on his head to place it next to his mouth, sucking on the blunette's fingers wantonly, but he didn't bother to elaborate on why he was doing so even though the confusion was clear on the slave's face.

"Ichigo, what are-" but again, Grimmjow never got to finish his question because Ichigo pulled away yet again, letting the man's hand fall to his side as he sat back on his haunches, elegant hands coming up to brush away the shoulders of his white, linen tunic. The diaphanous fabric fell easily and pooled around the orangette's slender hips, revealing a lithe, toned chest covered with flawless, sun-kissed skin. However before Grimmjow had even moved an inch in the other's direction, his desire to touch that beautiful skin nearly overwhelming him, Ichigo placed a hand on his sternum, keeping him from moving.

"You'll tear your wounds open if you move too much," the ruler teased in a lilting tone, his other hand pulling away the rest of the tunic to reveal that he wore absolutely _no _undergarments whatsoever. Grimmjow would have glared at the other man if he hadn't been so busy biting his lower lip raw at the sight of Ichigo's exposed manhood, any blood left in his body shooting to his own. There was no doubt that Ichigo was every inch a male, but there was something so beautiful about him that left Grimmjow breathless.

The orangette slid up back onto his lap, moaning when their cocks brushed together, sensitive, swollen flesh rubbing against each other as they came together in another bruising kiss, one of Ichigo's hands coming up to grasp at the back of Grimmjow's neck and the other lifting the hand that he had previously wet with his mouth to bring it to the cleft in his marvelous ass.

Grimmjow had wondered briefly what role he would play in their first time together, and had decided he didn't care much at all, because...it was Ichigo. Though he was slightly relieved that he wouldn't have to be jostled about too much, considering his back was still healing.

Not waiting for Ichigo to give him direction, he broke their kiss to stare up into gorgeous, soul-sucking cocoa brown eyes as his forefinger circled their owner's entrance. He knew the basics of what he had to do next, having had it explained to him in great detail when he was still expected to be part of the pharaoh's harem. Ever so slowly, still a little unsure of himself, he watched Ichigo's face as he slipped that digit into the tight warmth of the man above him and he nearly died out of sheer adoration when the orangette let loose a soft cry, eyes flickering shut like smoldering flames disappearing into nothing.

He marveled at just how Ichigo's passageway hugged his finger and soon he was slipping in a second one, still watching the other's flushed face as he began to move them in a scissoring motion. However, as the orange-haired man winced in obvious discomfort, he paused.

"This is hurting you," he stated, going to withdraw his fingers from Ichigo but stopping when he felt a firm grip on his wrist. Stunning ochre eyes snapped open, lust and a little bit of annoyance in their depths, though the orangette's lips pulled up into a wry smile.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Ichigo reassured him, leaning forward so that his next words were mumbled against Grimmjow's lips. "Besides, as soon as you are well again, it will be your turn."

The passion and intent in Ichigo's voice had Grimmjow shuddering in pleasure and in an effort to gain some dominance, he thrusted his digits further inside the former's entrance and was rewarded when Ichigo let out a long, drawn-out moan, cocoa eyes wide.

"Right there, Grimmjow," the pharaoh commanded in what he probably thought was a noble sounding voice, but was actually quite breathless and left Grimmjow smirking viciously, a sharp canine apparent through the part in his lips. But he was obliged to obey his master and so the slave tapped his fingers against the place that had Ichigo writhing in pleasure on top of him in mere moments, mouth open and eyes heavily hooded.

Needless to say, he was surprised when Ichigo reached down and grabbed his wrist once more, forcing his hand away from the man's now stretched entryway. Grimmjow hissed in pure bliss as that hand then wrapped around the base of his cock and angled the head so that it brushed against the opening to that tight warmth that he couldn't wait to buried to the hilt inside of. Fortunately, he did not have to wait long as the monarch above him, looking like the god in human form he truly was, absolutely magnificent, impaled himself on his manhood. The orange-haired man brokenly moaned in what Grimmjow could only guess was pained pleasure as he slowly slid down until the blunette's erection was all of the way inside of him.

Then placing his hands on Grimmjow's shoulders, blunt, crescent-moon nails digging into the tanned skin there, Ichigo began to move. There was a pulling sensation on the slave's cock that had the man's stunningly blue eyes rolling in the back of his head, navy eyelashes fluttering as the master began to ride him, that tight warmth never ceasing to surround him with a snugness that had him seeing stars, blinding him with pleasure just like a desert sandstorm, like the one they had endured together.

Grimmjow didn't doubt for one second that he was completely and utterly devoted to the Pharaoh of Lower Egypt, the one he had been given to by force, the one he would now lay his life down for. The holy people said that he had been touched by the gods, obvious from his water blue hair and eyes, but he had never believed it until this moment. Only a person as blessed as that would be able to experience this unadulterated, mad euphoria with the man above him, the Pharaoh with hair the color of the sunset and eyes so sultry they could bewitch any man or woman, his owner, his master, his love. Ichigo.

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><p><strong>Present Day<strong>

**Giza, Egypt **

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><p>Kisuke Urahara surveyed the tomb he had spent weeks excavating and years before that searching for; it was to be the greatest find of his career. The tomb of the nameless Pharaoh that had apparently had hair the color of the sun.<p>

It was a grand thing, everything dripping in gold and rubies and sapphires, luminescent even under the thousands of years of ancient dust that coated them. Statuettes of servants and holy animals meant to carry the ruler over into the next life filled the tomb as well as jugs of wine and honey, the fruit that had been served on plates for the deceased pharaoh long since disintegrated into nothing. And then, in the very center, was the sarcophagus of the monarch himself, and it was everything it should be, positively massive and painted with the visage of its owner. Kisuke found himself kneeling in reverence at the sight, even as a pomegranate-haired woman stalked about like she owned the place, whistling lowly.

"They sure knew how to send a man off to the Underworld, huh?" she remarked gaily, running her hands over the hieroglyphics that prefaced the archaic coffin. Kisuke couldn't say he much cared for Yoruichi Shihoin's lack of respect, but she was the best ancient languages translator there was, his own personal rosetta stone. So, in short, he was stuck with her.

Yoruichi bent down, sharp golden eyes running over the lettering and symbols that had been carved into the stone long ago. She clicked her tongue, shaking her head.

"What is it?" Kisuke asked, standing up and moving closer to where she was standing, peering curiously at the hieroglyphics, though he had no idea what they spelled out.

"Looks like you may have found more than what you were hoping to," Yoruichi said, her voice uncharacteristically low and somewhat humble as she read just what exactly lay in this tomb.

"What do you mean?"

"Says here that not only does the body of the sun-colored Pharaoh lay here, but his...," she trailed off, biting her lip as Kisuke felt a great swell of excitement in his chest. Here he had been hoping to just find the Pharaoh, so what else had they stumbled upon?

"What?" he asked impatiently, gaze flicking upwards to take in the blank stare of the painted sarcophagus, where he noticed the eyes were two encrusted sapphires that as he kept staring, seemed to flicker with the tiniest of lights, before returning to their usual emptiness.

But perhaps it was just his imagination.

"Well, it says that not only does the body of the sun-colored Pharaoh lay here, but the body of his sacred serf, the one who embodied water, lays here as well, and to disturb them would incur the wrath of the god Amun-Ra himself," Yoruichi finished, looking up to stare at the coffin that they now knew held not one, but two bodies.

"There's a curse on this tomb?" the blonde man asked, though not really caring, he didn't believe in such things, though his female companion did to some degree.

"It would seem so."

"But why are they both buried here? Why would a slave be buried with the Pharaoh of Lower Egypt?" Kisuke muttered under his breath.

"Isn't it obvious, Kisuke?" Yoruichi asked, flicking the blonde man's hat off to fall onto the ground in a playful gesture. "They were in love."

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><p><strong>AN: **My sincere apologies, this should have been out much sooner, but real life kept demanding time away from the computer. *sigh* Oh, well, I hope you all enjoyed! I'm exhausted. It was my first time writing a GrimmIchi smut scene entirely from Grimmjow's point of view, but I think it's one of my favorites so far. A huge thanks to **SilverEternity **for such an awesome request, I had so, so much fun writing it!

You can make up how Grimm and Ichigo met their demise, but I envisioned them both dying in some epic battle, where Grimmjow was fighting beside Ichigo and they were both wounded fatally before dying next to each other.

Now I have to do quite the amount of research on some of the requests (both historical and media-wise.)

Drop a line? :)


	7. GrimmIchi Moonlight Part I

**Summary**: Prince Ichigo is taken away from the love of his life, the Prince Grimmjow, and put under a spell by the Lord Aizen that turns him into a swan by day, only able to turn back into a human when the moonlight hits the lake he now resides in. But neither of these princes are just going to give up when it comes to their love.

**Warnings**: AU, yaoi, slight violence, reads somewhat like a Disney movie.

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><p>...<p>

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><p><strong>Moonlight Part I<strong>

A Grimmjow/Ichigo inspired by the ballet _Swan Lake _

Written for **faithnfantasy**

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><p>...<p>

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><p>Prince Ichigo had always believed in the power of love.<p>

Well, true love, that is. The kind of love that was supposed to conquer everything, even death itself. However, no one would ever know that he believed in such a thing, that he was a hopeless romantic. It could almost be said that it was his deepest and darkest secret.

Perhaps his idyllic picture of love had come from seeing his father, King Isshin of the kingdom of Zangetsu, lose the love of his life, Ichigo's mother, and had never even so much as looked at another woman ever since. Perhaps it had come from the endless storybooks and fairy tales that had been stacked in the castle's library in positively colossal masses, the ones he had only ever read as long as they had the cliche happy ending. Perhaps it had come from his own idealistic, ardent nature.

But most likely it came from the fact that he had experienced this kind of love firsthand. He knew what it was like to love someone so much it physically hurt, and to have loved someone for so long he couldn't remember where he ended and they began.

You see, Ichigo's father had been quite close with the king of the province of Desagarron, and when he had passed away, King Isshin had taken it upon himself to make sure to keep his friend's widow, the Sovereign Princess Nelliel, company during the summer months. And so he would gather Ichigo and his two other children, the princesses Karin and Yuzu, and travel to Desagarron's royal palace for the entirety of the summer. But the prince of Zangetsu had never minded, not at all, because it meant he could see the reason why the very first day of June was his favorite out of the entire year.

The Sovereign Princess had only ever had one son before her husband passed away, and he had inherited his father's bright turquoise hair and deep sapphire eyes, so unusual that he deserved a name that was even more so. And so, that son became Prince Grimmjow Jaegerjaques of Desagarron, and Prince Ichigo's best friend.

Ever since they had first met at the delicate age of one and three, respectively, they had had some sort of instant connection, immediately becoming the best of friends. Their bond was so strong that it took the jaws of life to pry the two apart when it came to be the first of September, when the royal family of Zangetsu would have to return to their home in their native country. But when they were together, nothing else mattered.

As young boys are wont to do, they ran about the castle causing quite a ruckus during those summers. They threw rocks through the windows, breaking the glass and hitting the palace guards on their armoured heads. They shot down birds with slingshots and then eventually bows and arrows (though Ichigo would never admit to purposefully missing so that he wouldn't kill the poor creatures.) They ran through the hallways, screaming and laughing and sword fighting until it was so late in the evening one of their parents were pressed to forcibly wrestle the two into bed so that the castle would have a brief reprieve from the terrible twosome.

Ichigo and Grimmjow could never get enough of each other. Even after they were too tired to move any more they would stay up half the night talking about different things. Ichigo loved Grimmjow's brashness and confidence, the likes of which he had never seen. He loved the other boy's toothy ever-present grin and he certainly loved the way those eternally blue eyes gleamed with excitement whenever they were hunting out in the woods or sometimes, when he thought Ichigo wasn't looking, how they grew soft in ardor as Grimmjow stared at the other prince.

Eventually Prince Ichigo grew into a lithe young man, with hair the exact color of the sunset that brushed his shoulders, every bit as warm and beautiful as the natural phenomenon. It didn't escape his notice that people around the castle started to look at him in a different way, taking notice of his long legs and sparkling cinnamon and cocoa colored eyes framed by long, dark lashes. Of course, it also didn't escape him that everyone was starting to look at Grimmjow differently as well, for the blue-haired prince had grown to be a beauty indeed.

Tall and broad-shouldered with tousled sky blue hair and eyes the exact color of the deepest part of the ocean, the prince of Desagarron was heartbreakingly beautiful, with such perfectly carved features, every angle and plane of his body so perfect that he had been asked several times to pose for the kingdom's best artists. But he never accepted, which disappointed Ichigo as he secretly thought to himself that he would love to have a Grimmjow statue to bring with him when he left to return to his home country.

And as time went on, Ichigo found that his dreams were plagued with thoughts and visions of the blunette prince, and not in the usual way. No, he dreamed of the time he and Grimmjow had gone swimming in the river by the castle. He had been fifteen at the time and the other, seventeen. For some reason, just as he was about to strip down just as they had done so many times before, he had found himself frozen, a flush upon his face as he stared at the other's nearly nude form as Grimmjow dove into the river. He hadn't been able to move an inch as the other male had stepped out of the water, droplets running down tawny skin in the most sweetly torturous way, to see what was wrong.

Ichigo had shaken off the warm, tingling feeling he had gotten from seeing Grimmjow in such a way, but the memory was forever etched into his mind. Not that he was complaining, of course. But he had never looked at his best friend the same way ever again, because the orange-haired prince had come to realize that Grimmjow was more than a best friend to him, he was _everything_.

There was nothing that Ichigo wouldn't do for Grimmjow. Trite and silly as it may seem, he would throw himself off the tallest tower if it made the other man happy. Not that Ichigo thought it would, no, not all. Because one of the reasons why he would do anything for Grimmjow was because he knew the other cared just as much for him and that knowledge was just about the sweetest there was.

But he wasn't sure if Grimmjow _loved _him the same way Ichigo had come to realize he loved Grimmjow.

Currently the orangette was visiting the neighboring kingdom of Desagarron yet again. Or more specifically, the country's prince's bedroom, Grimmjow's bedroom, and it was quite a delicious feeling that Ichigo knew that not a soul knew he was there as he was supposed to be in the guest room reserved for him. Well, no one knew except for the owner of the bedroom, whom was presently laying beside him, their breathing both slow and lethargic as they had just come back from an arduous hunting trip and they had changed into fine tunics that royalty usually wore when they had no formal event to go to. The sun was just setting and its warm glow filtered in through the window, catching the silvery blue gray fabric of Grimmjow's tunic and the pure white of Ichigo's, making it sparkle.

Tomorrow was the first of September. Tomorrow was the day Ichigo would leave to return to Zangetsu for the bitter months of fall and winter, all the while wishing for it to be summer once again.

He had spent the past three months in mental anguish as he debated when the right moment was to tell Grimmjow how he felt, none of them seeming to be right. He wanted it to be perfect in every way, just in case the blunette decided to say those three little words in return.

Now wouldn't _that _would be something, especially since Ichigo very much doubted that Grimmjow did return his feelings in any way.

_But if he did..._

Ichigo looked to his right, seeing that Grimmjow was laying on his back like him, a hand over his abdomen and his pretty blue eyes closed as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, though Ichigo knew the other man was not asleep. He was only proven right when a cyan orb appeared as Grimmjow opened one eye to stare at him almost questioningly, seeing the anxious look on Ichigo's face. He could always tell when something was bothering the other.

"Somethin' the matter, Ichi?" he asked in his rough, velvety voice that was still as smooth as melted chocolate, causing Ichigo to bite into his lower lip rather harshly. He could feel the tingling of anxiety beginning in his stomach, a horde of butterflies fluttering around.

"I, uh...well, I'm leaving tomorrow, and..." Ichigo paused, unsure of how to best phrase what he was about to say. Of course he had gone through countless ways in his mind of how to say those three little words, but he had come up empty-handed. Nothing sounded perfect enough. He watched from the corner of his eye as Grimmjow propped himself on his elbow, palm cradling his head as surveyed the orangette with a gaze too intense to be real.

"Come on, spit it out then," he encouraged, a slight grin stretching his lips. Ichigo took a deep, shaky breath, wondering if he was about to ruin everything he had with the prince of Desagarron.

"We've been friends for a long time, Grimm, and..." he trailed off, raising himself up to lean on his elbows as he boldly met Grimmjow's intense stare head on.

_It was now or never._

"And I think ever since I first met you, even though I was only a year old, ever since then I've loved you, and I don't mean in a friends kind of way. I mean I _love you_ love you."

Ichigo's words were rushed and slurred, blending into one another. For a second he wondered whether or not Grimmjow had even heard him as the other prince was as still as a statue on the luxe bed they lay on, and when Ichigo saw that there was not even a hint of recognition of what he had just said in those sapphire depths, his heart clenched and he closed his eyes. He was just about to mumble an apology for wrecking everything by saying such a thing and slip out of the room so that he could perhaps leave early for his trip back home when silken lips pressed to his in a searing kiss, stealing the words from his mouth.

Chocolate brown eyes snapped open to take in the fact that Grimmjow, the prince and heir to the throne of Desagarron, his best friend, the person he loved more than anything else in the entire world, was _kissing _him. And it felt amazing, better than heaven and nirvana and all those good places mixed together.

It was a short kiss, lasting less than three seconds, and in his surprise Ichigo didn't even have time to respond, only gasping loudly as Grimmjow pulled away, eyes dark and sinful lips parted.

"Please tell me I'm not dreamin'," the blunette whispered uncharacteristically softly, brushing one large thumb over Ichigo's freckled cheekbone.

"Wh-what?" The orangette was so confused at what had just happened that he could barely even get one word out of his still tickling with the sensation of Grimmjow's lips. The other male chuckled.

"I've only been wantin' for ya to say to that to me fer five years now."

Ichigo sputtered, unbelieving of what the blue-haired prince had just revealed to him as if itwas just so obvious.

"Y-you...you _bastard_!"

The widening of Grimmjow's ethereally blue eyes were the only evidence to the fact that the man was shocked by Ichigo's exclamation.

"What?" he asked, obviously not believing that he had heard the other prince right. Meanwhile, Ichigo was infuriated, to say the least.

"You've been waiting for _me _to say it for five years when you could've said it your damn self all this time?" the orangette nearly roared, sitting straight up and putting both of his hands on his hips. If Grimmjow had been a lesser man he would've cowered at the sight of Ichigo's infamous temper, but instead he merely rolled his eyes, smirking as he too sat up, swinging his long legs off of the bed.

"Yeah, and I've been waitin' to give this to ya, too," he said over his shoulder as he stood to crouch by the ornate bedside table, reaching into the bottom drawer to pull out a small, wooden box. Ichigo frowned, even though the blissful realization that Grimmjow returned his feelings was beginning to set upon him, making his heart swell so much he thought it may burst.

"What is it?" he questioned almost reverently as the blunette sat back on the bed, holding the wooden box out to him, which he could now see was intricately carved with designs traditional to the Desagarron kingdom, panthers and lions covering the pretty thing.

"Jus' open it," Grimmjow advocated as Ichigo took the box into his hands, slowly prying the lid open to reveal a pendant necklace laying innocently on a bed of blue velvet the exact color of the prince's eyes.

The pendant was a design made up of the sun and moon curving around each other, fittingly made out of sun and moonstone respectively. It was just like the two princes, completely different and yet perfectly complementary. Hell, even their coloring fit the two solar bodies flawlessly.

Ichigo took the pendant out of the box, slipping it over his head so that it came to rest in the center of his chest, just two inches right of his heart. Unable to find the words as he had always been more of a physical person, he leaned forward and curved his hands around Grimmjow's sinfully divine face, closing the distance between them in order to lay a soft, tender kiss on the other's lips. Pulling away after a moment, he pressed their foreheads together, noting that the blunette's eyes were still closed.

"I'm still mad at you, you know," he whispered.

"Wouldn't expect anything less."

* * *

><p>...<p>

* * *

><p>The next morning, Ichigo sat in his royal carriage, fingering the pendant that hung from his neck. He had decided to leave a few hours later than his sisters and father, as he had no desire to rise early after he had spent most of the night engaging in certain...<em>activities <em>with his new lover. He was even still wearing the white tunic, only having bothered to throw on a cloak and strap his sword to his waist.

He was absolutely blithe as he remembered what had transpired between him and Grimmjow. He had finally confessed his feelings and to find that the blunette returned them just as much. And even though he was leaving to return to his kingdom, they had discussed this very morning that the prince of Desagarron would come to visit him in Zangetsu for a change at the end of the month and would stay until the winter holidays were over. Well, when he said 'discussed' Ichigo meant more that he demanded that Grimmjow come and stay with him and the other prince knew better than to try and argue.

Ichigo was just about to pull out a piece of parchment from the trunk that was inside the carriage to start writing his first letter of the season to Grimmjow, as he had every time he left the kingdom of Desagarron, when the carriage suddenly lurched to a halt. He nearly fell from his seat, but luckily caught himself just in time, hands splaying against the walls of the carriage as inertia gripped him.

Once he was steadied, he rose to his feet, abandoning caution in favor of throwing open the door to the carriage and looking around to see what had happened.

At first, he noticed nothing unusual, just the same wooded path they always traveled on, but then he realized the masses of silver lying prone on the ground. Eyes widening, he stepped onto the ground to survey the five bodies of his armed royal guard, bloodied and completely still. Dead. Without hesitation, he lay his right hand on the sword strapped to his waist, wrapping his fingers around the hilt as his cinnamon eyes darted around. He couldn't see anyone, or anything, for that matter.

"Ah, look at tha' wittle itty bitty princess, isn't he a cutie?"

Drawing his sword, Ichigo whipped around in search of the person whom had spoken. However, instead of just one person, there were three. The one whom had presumably spoken was looking at him with a manic grin, the man's skin as white as snow and with hair to match. But his eyes were a frightening black and gold combination, completely malicious as they glittered in the high noon sun.

Two others stood a few feet behind him, one with silver hair and a wide, tight-lipped smile, eyes looking almost closed the smile was so broad. The last man was not alone, as he was smiling as the other two were, but his smile was small and tepid. His sepia brown hair was brushed back from his face, one single curl falling in front of his matching eyes. Ichigo bit the inside of his cheek, wondering how he was going to get out of this because though he was very capable of defending himself, these three had obviously so easily managed to kill five of his most capable guards.

"Who are you?" he asked in a voice that shook more than he would have liked. The albino cackled loudly whilst the silver-haired man chuckled quietly, but it was the brunette who spoke.

"My name is Sosuke Aizen. Do not worry Prince Ichigo, this won't hurt...much."

* * *

><p>...<p>

* * *

><p>That night, Prince Grimmjow was very peacefully relaxing by the massive fireplace in his private chambers alone when someone burst into his room, disturbing the mental picture of his new lover pinned under him that he had been replaying in his mind for several minutes.<p>

"Your Highness!" the man whom had flung open the door immediately sunk to his knees, hands bracing himself as he panted heavily as if he had been running for quite a while. Grimmjow didn't recognize him but was automatically on his feet, wondering what had caused the man to burst in, unannounced.

"What's going on?" he asked gruffly, eyeing the man as he looked up, recognizing him to be one of the kingdom's many soldier patrols, the ones who policed the forest surrounding the country's border with the country of Zangetsu. Suddenly, his gut twisted and his heart plummeted to land somewhere in his stomach.

"Y-your Highness, we were patrolling the forest, and we...we found," the man took a deep breath, looking down to the stone floor. "We found the royal carriage belonging to the Prince of Zangetsu, it-"

But Grimmjow didn't hear the rest of that sentence, as he was already out of the room, barreling down the hallway as fast as his legs could carry him. He ran past several people who tried to ask him what he was in such a hurry for, including his own mother, and ignored them all. He didn't stop once until he got to the stables, immediately heading for the beautiful white mare with piercing blue eyes that matched his own.

Forgoing a saddle and reins, he hopped onto Pantera bareback, spurring her into motion as best he could without stirrups. Many voices called after him, but again he ignored them. He had to get into the forest and that was all he could think of as he fisted his hands into Pantera's snowy mane as she charged into the dense wall of trees.

He rode fast and hard, absentmindedly murmuring words of encouragement to the horse below him even as she neighed in distress as they dashed through the thick underbrush of woods, Grimmjow using the sword he had had luckily strapped to his belt at the time the messenger had barged into his room to cut away low-lying branches. After about forty minutes, they came to where one of the narrowest parts of the wooded path that led to the border between Zangetsu and Desagarron intersected with the self-made path Grimmjow had taken.

The blue-haired prince couldn't stop from letting out a pained gasp as he saw the broken mess of wood and metal and fabric that had once been the royal carriage of Prince Ichigo. Around it were the strewn bodies of the orangette's royal guard, all looking like they had died rather bloody deaths. Sliding off of Pantera, the poor horse panting as she tried to catch her breath, he walked ever so slowly to where the ruined carriage lay.

Ichigo wasn't here. He knew that, he _felt _it. And he knew that the man he loved more than anything else wasn't dead, either, he definitely would have felt that, would have known with every fiber of his being if the life that meant everything to him had been extinguished.

He nearly would have stepped on something on the ground if it hadn't been for the moonlight reflecting off of it, catching his eye. Crouching down, his gaze zeroed in on what exactly lay there and he let loose a low growl before almost reverently picking it up in a gentle grip, thumb brushing off the dirt that had collected on the sun and moonstone pendant that he had given to Ichigo not even twenty four hours before.

No, Ichigo was definitely alive somewhere, and Grimmjow was going to find him, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

* * *

><p>...<p>

* * *

><p>"Come now, Ichigo, it's not that bad, is it?"<p>

Ichigo glared up at Aizen, the only thing he could do in his present state, which was a lot more..._fowl _than it was before. If he could speak, he would ask why the brunette man was doing this to him, but unfortunately whenever he tried to speak, the only thing that came out of his mouth were crass-sounding honks and hisses. To say it was frustrating would be quite an understatement.

"Yea' Ichi, I think ya look great this way. In fact, I got a little somethin' fer ya," the albino whom he had now learned was called Shiro (a quite fitting name, really) said, reaching into the dark cloak he wore to withdraw something small and circular, almost like a woman's bracelet. It was gold except for a singular citrine stone in the very center. Ichigo tried to back away as Shiro approached him with the thing, but only ended up falling onto his rump as he was unused to his new legs.

Shiro cackled and roughly set the thing upon Ichigo's new, smaller head like a crown.

"There, now ya look like a real king," Shiro said, standing back up to his full height and towering over Ichigo, whom was now desperately trying to throw the circlet off of his head by thrashing his long neck around. "Bahahaha, all hail tha Swan King!"

Ichigo gave up trying to get the blasted thing off and instead returned to glaring back up at Shiro and Aizen, whom were both looking down at him with amused smiles, one bordering on insane and the other still that same mild half-smile that drove the orangette positively mad with frustration. How he wanted to knock that look right off the face of the man that had killed five of his most trusted personal soldiers and had then forcibly taken him to this lake where he had turned him into a...

A swan.

Ichigo was now a white-feathered bird with wings and webbed feet and the famously long, elegant neck of the swan. No one would ever recognize him now, except if they looked close enough to see the infamously blazing mahogany eyes that would always be his, whether he be human or swan.

"But do you know why it's not so bad, my dear prince?" Aizen questioned, tilting his head just the slightest bit. Ichigo just continued to shoot daggers with his eyes, as he couldn't very well respond, now could he?

"Because, only in the exact moment the moonlight hits the lake and you are in it, you will turn back into a human."

Ichigo's eyes widened. Did that mean that once the sun rose he would be back to normal? That he could change back to being human and kill these men and then run back to the royal castle and fling himself into Grimmjow's arms and forget that any of this had ever happened?

"However, when the sun rises, no matter where you are you will return to being a swan, my little swan king."

* * *

><p><em>One Year Later...<em>

* * *

><p>"Ichigo, wait up!"<p>

"Yeah, we can't swim that fast!"

The swan that was several feet ahead of the five others rolled his still cocoa brown eyes underneath his gold circlet crown, craning his long neck to look behind him at the five pure white swans that struggled to keep up with him. Slowing down, he allowed one of them to catch up with him, the other swan bobbing his head up and down as he gave an eerily toothy grin for a water fowl.

Shinji had always been rather creepy, whether he be a swan or his normal human self.

A year had passed since Ichigo had been put under the enchantment of the mage Aizen that turned him into a swan by day and his regular form by night, and since then it seemed that the enchanter had grown fond of using the same spell on others that he believed had wronged him in some way.

Ichigo had learned in that past year that Aizen apparently held some sort of grudge against his father, deciding to take it out on the king's only son instead of the man himself, and that's why he had attacked the prince's carriage that day and had kidnapped him. But over those twelve months, four other men and one woman so far had been cursed with the same affliction. Swan by day, human by night.

"So, Ichigo, the sun's setting," Shinji said nonchalantly, brown eyes flitting up to the sky.

"Yeah," the orangette replied as they swam together to the center of the lake, the deepest part of the water. The sounds of the rest following them as they prepared for the the moon to rise and the enchantment to take effect and make them human once more, only for the night.

"And that means we'll have nice, long legs for running..." Shinji trailed off and Ichigo huffed, frustrated with the other's antics. Every night since Shinji had been tossed into the lake with the rest of them a month ago he had been trying to gather everyone in an attempt to escape the lake. A noble cause, but he always failed to see the problems that Ichigo pointed out to him every time.

First of all, there was the guard that Aizen had patrolling the lake, a lousy, rather large man named Yammy who carried a shepherd's crook that he liked to hit the swans over the head with every time they were on land, no matter how many times he received vicious bites from the poor birds. And Ichigo knew the guard wouldn't hesitate to use brute force if they tried to leave at any time, day or night. He felt a phantom pain in his temple as he remembered Yammy's blow to it a month or so after he had been taken to the lake by Aizen and he had tried to escape. He had been unconscious for about a day or two after that.

Secondly, there was the fact that if they did manage to leave, they wouldn't know where to go as they had no idea where they were, only that they were in a lake in a wooded area where Aizen lived in his tall, pure white tower.

And then there was the issue of the enchantment, as they would turn into swans when sunrise came and then they wouldn't be able to return to the lake at sunset in order to change back.

It pretty much sucked. And Ichigo hated it that Shinji had to remind him of that.

"Quit it, Shinji. We're not going anywhere," he grumbled, ruffling his wings as he settled into his usual spot, the first place the moonlight hit the lake in the evening.

"But we never even try!" Shinji whined, flapping his wings about in a frustrated motion, nearly taking the eye out of another swan that had just swam up to them.

"Ugh, Shinji, don't whine, it isn't very beautiful," said swan commented, elongating his long neck so that his bill was high up in the air in a mightily snobbish fashion. Another male swan followed closely behind, his own neck bent as his eyes darted around, presumably looking for Yammy as he always liked to fight the large guard, regardless of whether he was swan or human.

"Tch, whatever," Shinji rolled his eyes just as the sun set and the final two swans reached them, one's face marred by three long, vertical scars that he had earned getting into a scrap with a vicious bobcat that had been skulking around, hoping to eat swan meat for dinner. The other immediately swam up to Ichigo, pressing herself to his side.

"Oh, Ichigo, the moon's about to rise and I get so _lonely _during the night. Do you mind keeping me company?" she simpered, using her long neck to wrap around him, rubbing her bill against the side of his face. Ichigo could feel that if he were human at the moment, he would be bright red and so he untangled himself from the female swan without seeming harsh as best he could.

Yes, Shinji, Yumichika, Ikkaku, Shuuhei, and Rangiku were quite a bunch, but they were the only allies Ichigo had in the entire world.

"I...uh," he tried to find words in order to explain to Rangiku that he had never had any interest in keeping a woman company at night, even though he suspected she already knew that and just loved to tease him. "Oh, the moon's here!" he stuttered, rushing to the perfect position in which for the moonlight to strike him.

The silvery light hit the rippling water and his white plumage, sending something like a shock of electricity through his blood, causing him to shudder as the water moved around him, encircling his body as he briefly disappeared, his being nothing but glitter in the air as it formed into a man, the outline then filled in with flawless bronzed skin and bright orange hair. And there he stood, knee deep in the lake, as the man known as Ichigo, Prince of Zangetsu.

He turned to see that the others had turned as well, five humans standing where the swans had once been. Yumichicka immediately fell into Ikkaku's arms and they walked off together, per usual. It wasn't a secret that they were head over heels for each other.

Rangiku and Shuuhei waded to the shore of the lake, sitting down in the grass as the strawberry-blonde woman talked the brunette man's ear off about something or another while he just nodded and pretended to listen. Ichigo, still dressed in that same white tunic he had been wearing for a year now, cornered his eyes to see Shinji standing beside him,now with long, blonde hair and arms crossed as he frowned deeply.

"I don't understand, Ichigo. Don't you want to leave? Don't you have anyone waiting for you, wondering where you are?"

Being that Shinji was from a foreign land, he didn't know Ichigo's true identity as a prince. He didn't know that there was indeed someone wondering just where Ichigo was.

The orangette turned away, deciding not to answer, staring up at the moon. He placed a hand over his chest as if he could still feel the pendant that had once been there.

* * *

><p>...<p>

* * *

><p>"You cheater!"<p>

"_What_?I won fair and square!"

Prince Grimmjow rolled his eyes, slapping the playing cards in his hand on the table. He never had much fun playing with his two closest friends, Nnoitra and Kensei. They were both terribly sore losers and argued over every hand. They didn't even notice when he pushed back his chair and walked away, leaving them behind as they yelled and screamed, hands going to their swords. Hopefully they didn't kill each other, as then Grimmjow would be out of friends.

The blunette prince stalked down the hallway, nodding his head to all of the servants that bowed to his presence and uttered pleasant greetings to him. Eventually he came to the largest room in all of the castle, the ballroom, which was usually completely empty except for the ornate, decorative walls and chandeliers, all embossed in gold and ivory.

However, today servants were rushing in and out of the large hall, setting up circular tables and covering them with lace tablecloths and arranging flowers and banners and in the center of it all was the sea green-haired Sovereign Princess Nelliel, his mother. She was pointing out a banner that just ever so slightly crooked to an advisor beside her before she noticed her son staring with wide eyes at the ballroom currently being decorated as if they were having...well, a ball.

"Oh, Grimmjow, darling!" she exclaimed, rushing over to him, careful to pick up the full skirt of her shamrock green dress.

"Mother," the blue-haired man addressed his mother, seeing that her gray-green orbs were shining with excitement as she came to stand in front of him, hands clasped together. "Wha's all of...this?" he asked, gesturing towards all of the preparations being made when he had no idea that they were hosting any kind of function.

"Oh, well, it's just something I'm throwing together at the last minute. I'm just having some old friends over...and their sons and daughters," she said nonchalantly, muttering the last part so quietly that Grimmjow had to strain to hear her, but he did and growled at the confirmation that his mother was trying to set him up _again_.

"So then ya won't mind if I don't show up?" His tone was dangerously low and the Princess panicked, gripping onto her son's tunic sleeves.

"But you have to come!" she cried, looking precariously close to tears as her lower lip started to quiver. Grimmjow felt a vein start to tick in his forehead as his mother used his one weakness against him. "Please, Grimmy?"

The blunette sighed heavily, prying the Sovereign Princess' hands from his sleeves, resting his own on her shoulders.

"Fine, but I'm not wearin' that stupid cape you bought me," he said, wincing when his mother squealed loudly, reaching up to give him a big, wet kiss on the cheek.

"Oh thank you, Grimmjow! I promise you'll have fun."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Grimmjow huffed, wiping his face as he stalked out of the ballroom. Almost impulsively, his hand traveled underneath his tunic where he drew out a pendant necklace made from sun and moonstone. He stopped and leaned against the wall, staring at the thing that he had had made what seemed so long ago for the person that had meant the world to him, that still meant the world to him.

Grimmjow had searched through the forest of Desagarron for weeks after he had found the ruined carriage on the path that day, looking for any patch of bright orange in the endless greenery. But he had come up empty handed and it had taken his mother actually coming out to where he was deep in the woods to finally convince him to stop searching. She had said then that it was time he let go, but he wouldn't ever do such a thing. He had always been rather stubborn like that.

He didn't blame Nelliel for trying to set him up with one of the nobles' son or daughter. She hadn't known about him and his best friend turned lover, no one had but them. How cruel it was that the day after they had finally confessed their feelings, the other prince had been taken away from him.

But Ichigo wasn't dead, he knew that, felt it. Ichigo was still out there somewhere, and someday, Grimmjow would find him. He was sure of it.

He was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of boots on the stone floor and he looked up to see that Kensei and Nnoitra had finally stopped arguing (though now sporting several cuts and bruises) and had decided to seek him out. They could always tell when he was thinking about Ichigo, as it was very obvious, sapphire eyes misty and fingers brushing over the sun and moon pendant.

"'ey, Grimm. We heard there's a great bevy of swans up near the border. Feel like goin' hunting?" Nnoitra asked as if he wasn't trying to cheer the other up as it wasn't a very masculine thing to do. Grimmjow sighed, tucking the pendant back into his tunic.

"Yeah, I need ta get away from this place."

* * *

><p>...<p>

* * *

><p>Though it was getting very late in the day, Grimmjow saddled up on Pantera and took off into the forest, sticking to the wooded path as Nnoitra and Kensei followed behind on their own mounts. They rode fast in order to make it to this lake the others had heard of before the sun went down, Grimmjow racing far ahead of the other two as Pantera was the fastest horse in the entire kingdom. And after about an hour of barreling down the trail, Grimmjow finally spotted something white in the sky, making him grin maniacally. He had always loved to hunt and there was something about this particular bird that was making him more excited than he had felt in a very long.<p>

"'bout damn time," he muttered to himself, cyan orbs zeroing in on the form of an elegant swan flying just over the tops of the trees. He reached for his bow at his side and an arrow in the quiver strapped to his back just as Pantera broke through the trees to appear on the shore of a rather large lake, in which there were four pure white swans not including the one circling overhead.

Always one to take on a challenge, Grimmjow slid off his now panting mare and knocked his arrow, aiming for the swan that was flying. He ran toward the edge of the lake, stopping and following the bird with his arrow, looking for the perfect shot.

However, as soon as he was about to let the arrow fly, the swan changed direction and started to fly...towards him. Confused, he dropped his bow and arrow just the littlest bit, absentmindedly noticing that the sun was now just setting over the horizon.

Grimmjow stared in wonder as the swan dipped down over the lake, flapping its wings as it remained stationary not twenty feet from him in the air. He had to admit the swan was a perfect specimen, perfect for bringing back as a trophy, but there was something that stopped him from raising his bow again and shooting the creature down with his arrow. Why was this swan so content to stare at him, when he was obviously trying to kill the thing?

_Was that a crown on its head?_

But then the last of the sun's rays disappeared abruptly, leaving them in the darkness and Grimmjow mentally cursed himself for being distracted by such a strange animal and closed one eye as he took aim once more. This time, however, the swan darted away, flying as fast as it could back to the water, where the four other swans were watching, enraptured. It was eerie, frankly. He didn't know birds could act in such a way.

The swan with the crown on his head landed on the lake's surface and Grimmjow was _just _about to let his arrow fly when very suddenly the light of the moon fell across the bevy of swans, creating a sort of sparkling light that had the blunette faltering, nearly dropping his bow as he witnessed just what happened next.

Water swirled around the porcelain-plumed bird, creating a sort of ethereal whirlpool at it blocked the swan from sight. Grimmjow felt his mouth part in surprise at the sight of the air shimmering all around as the four other swans disappeared in a similar manner, his bow and arrow clattering to the ground below him.

When the shimmer in the air had dissipated and the water had stilled, in the crowned swan's place was a young man with shoulder-length hair as bright of an orange as the sun itself and sparkling cocoa brown eyes, so familiar it ripped his heart right in half.

_It just couldn't be._

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><p><em>...<em>

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><p>Ichigo couldn't believe his eyes, hadn't believed them for the last few minutes, from when he first saw that head of blue hair through the trees near the lake. It was too incredible to be true, too terrible, too wonderful. Grimmjow couldn't be here, he just couldn't.<p>

But it had been an entire year since he had laid eyes on the beautiful blue of the prince's hair and eyes and he felt his heart seize painfully at the sight. He had known that Grimmjow had been getting ready to kill him ever since he first spotted the bow and arrow in the blunette's hand, but he hadn't even realized that he needed to flee from the danger, not even in the back of his mind. No, his being had been completely consumed by the thought of seeing Grimmjow once again so much so that nothing else mattered.

He had barely even recognized that he had transformed back into his human self and was now taking a step towards his prevailing reason for living.

"Grimmjow." The name fell from his lips like a prayer, every bit as reverent and full of hope. He absentmindedly took note of the fact that the others had changed back too and were looking on motionless and silent, but after the entire world melted away, leaving just him and the man he had loved for nineteen years now standing before him as beautiful as ever.

Grimmjow's eyes were wide and his mouth was still opening and closing and he wondered if he had broken the other with the shock of seeing his former lover change from a swan to his usual human self.

"It really _is _you," the blue-haired prince whispered and it confused the orangette a little until Grimmjow abandoned the shore to run into the water and in the blink of an eye had his strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him off of the underwater ground he stood on. "Ichigo," he breathed, entangling his hands in the sunset colored hair.

Ichigo thought that he must have died because he still couldn't believe that Grimmjow was there, holding him so close to his body that it was as if they would dissolve into each other. He wasn't sure where he began and the other ended. Cliche as it may seem, in that moment they were one again.

"Grimmjow," he said once again, nearly choking on the lump in his throat and loving the taste of the name in his mouth as he hadn't uttered out loud in so long, only saying it over and over in his mind like a mantra for the past year.

Ichigo felt as Grimmjow retreated just the slightest bit and he looked up through hooded eyes to the face of the man he had loved ever since he could remember. The eyes that were a smoldering, fathomless midnight blue, the full lips the perfect shade of peachy pink, the straight nose and strong chin, the defined cheekbones, the furrowed, thin blue eyebrows. Everything was just the same as it had always been and yet, somehow, better. Perhaps from missing the other so terribly it physically hurt.

His entire body trembled as their lips met for the first time in a year's span and he clutched onto Grimmjow's tunic as if it were the only thing holding him to the earth, as if he loosened his deathly tight grip even just the slightest bit the blunette would disappear and he would be alone once again.

Suddenly Grimmjow pulled away, breaking the kiss and setting Ichigo back onto the ground, holding him out at arm's length. His ultramarine eyes were now blazing, having lost their glazed cast from earlier.

"Where tha fuck have you been?" the prince nearly roared, shaking Ichigo like a rag doll. "And why tha hell were you a fucking _bird_ a minute ago?"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes and swatted Grimmjow's arms away from him, his blissful small smile turning into a frown. "Knock it off, Grimm. I've been_ here_ the whole time!" he defended himself, throwing his arms out in frustration. "And if you want to know so badly, ask that bastard Aizen."

The other swan-people behind him gasped as Ichigo uttered Aizen's name. It seemed as if the mage had some sort of super-sonic hearing and would appear almost instantly after someone had said his name, furthering his already ridiculous god-complex.

However, before Grimmjow could even ask just who Aizen was, as Ichigo knew he would, there was a splashing sound as someone stepped into the lake where they were all standing. Mentally praying he hoped it wasn't who he thought it was, Ichigo stepped around Grimmjow to see Yammy already shin deep in the water and walking towards him, shepherd's crook slung over his shoulder.

"Oho, yer in trouble now, little swan king," Yammy chuckled, using the nickname that Shiro had given to Ichigo his first day as a swan, along with the circlet crown that he hadn't been able to get off of his head ever since. The orangette's hand twitched, brushing over the place his sword used to be out of habit. It was just too bad it had been taken away from him when he had been kidnapped by Aizen and the others, Shiro and Gin. Otherwise he would've decapitated the disgusting man already. However, before Ichigo could tell Yammy to get the hell out of there, Grimmjow had fisted his hand in the back of his tunic and jerked him backwards, he himself stepping forward with a menacing growl that even had Yammy stopping in his tracks.

"Who tha fuck are you?" he asked lowly, letting go of Ichigo in order to grip his sword and unsheathe it, the dangerously sharp blade glittering in the moonlight that had the lake's guard nervously gulping, but he turned his beady little eyes onto Ichigo, narrowing them in an effort to appear tough.

"I'll just go get Aizen, then," Yammy said, resembling a petulant child as he turned around and stalked off. Grimmjow made to follow but Ichigo grabbed onto his arm, stopping him.

"No! Just let him go," the orange-haired former prince commanded, closing his eyes in anguish. It killed him to say what he about to."You have to get out of here, Grimm. If Aizen comes, he'll kill you!"

"Ha! I'd like to see this _Aizen _try," Grimmjow scoffed. "I'm not leaving you here, Ichi, have ya gone completely mental? Yer comin' back with me," he demanded, sheathing his sword back around his waist. Ichigo bit into his lower lip hard, trying desperately to stifle the tears that wanted to fall as they gathered in the corners of his eyes.

"I can't, once the sun rises I'll just be a swan again," he said bitterly. It wasn't like him to sound so hopeless.

"I don't understand," Grimmjow said solemnly, reaching out with his right hand to softly caress the side of Ichigo's face.

"Aizen's some sort of mage, he put this spell on me a year ago. I have to be on the lake at moonrise in order to turn back into a human, but just until the sun comes up," the orangette explained. The other man's brow furrowed as he worked out the situation in his mind.

"So this Aizen guy is tha one who attacked yer carriage last year?" he asked. Ichigo just nodded, but Grimmjow shook his head, laying a hand on the hilt of his sword yet again. "Then let him come, I'll shove my sword so far up his-"

"Grimmjow, no!" the former prince cut him off, blinking away the still yet to fall tears and grabbing a hold of the blunette's face, pulling him down so that they were eye to eye. "You need to go, he'll kill you," he whispered, his tone desperate as he pleaded with the other man. Grimmjow frowned so heavily Ichigo almost regretted saying such a thing, big, cobalt orbs looking sadder than he had ever seen them.

"I'm not going to let you go, Ichi. Not when I've jus' found ya again," Grimmjow murmured, encircling the other's wrists with his large, tanned hands. Their noses brushed together as their breath intermingled in the sultry night air and Ichigo thought that maybe he could just forget everything about Aizen and the enchantment, or at least was willing to try.

"It's not the end," he assured his lover. He wouldn't give up.

"Damn straight it's not, because yer gonna come to the ball my mother's throwing tomorrow night."

Ichigo's eyes snapped open, staring at Grimmjow in disbelief.

"Grimm, I can't, I-" but before he could get another word out, the blunette lay a finger against his lips, silencing him.

"Listen, the path is just ta the south of this lake, it's a straight shot to tha castle. Come back and we'll figure outta way to get rid of this..._Aizen_," Grimmjow said resolutely, sapphire eyes seemingly staring into Ichigo's very soul as they burned with the prince's determination...and love. The orangette could have acted the damsel in distress right then and collapsed into the other's arms and not felt even a little bit bad about it, but it seemed that was not meant to be as Shinji's voice called out to him from several feet away. He had entirely forgotten the other four enchanted people were there.

"Ichigo, Aizen's coming!"

The former prince looked around, now noticing the familiar pressure in the air that always occurred right before Aizen made his appearance. He pushed Grimmjow away, his heart speeding to beat three times its normal rate.

"Shit, Grimmjow, you need to go!" he hissed, continuing to push the other man to the edge of the lake.

"Promise me you'll come tomorrow, Ichi," Grimmjow insisted, barely resisting as Ichigo pushed him.

"Yes, yes, I promise, I-" but again he was cut off something covering his lips, only this time it was Grimmjow's own that did so. The kiss was short and sweet, but no less full of passion and Ichigo was panting when the blunette pulled away, noticing that something had been slipped over his head and was now resting on his chest. Confused, he reached down to pull up to his face the sun and moonstone pendant Grimmjow had given to him a year ago, practically glittering in the dim light.

"I love ya, Ichi."

And then he was gone, leaving Ichigo alone once more and something like a hole where his heart had been before Grimmjow had taken it with him.

"My, my, wasn't that romantic?"

The former prince whirled around, looking desperately for the mage whose voice carried out over the entire lake though it was still as pleasant and mild as always. However, the only people he saw were Shinji and the others huddled together on the opposite shore, all looking about for Aizen as well. Yumichika clutched onto Ikkaku's arm, obviously remembering the enchanter's last visit.

Aizen appeared with the two others that were always at his side, the two pale-haired men with lilting voices and strangely broad grins. From what Ichigo had noticed over the years, Gin was training under Aizen to be a mage and Shiro was somewhat of a surrogate son to the man.

The orangette narrowed his eyes but refused to move out of the lake even as Aizen and the others waded into the water until they were but a foot from him, all of them up to their mid-calves in the lake.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ichigo spit out, glaring daggers at the mage before him but mentally praying that Grimmjow had made it far enough away to be safe from the dangerous user of dark magic.

"Oh, but I think you do," Aizen chuckled softly and in a motion too fast for Ichigo to see, snatched the pendant around the younger man's neck and dangled it from his fingers. If Ichigo hadn't known what the man was capable of, he would've _killed _him as he watched the precious sun and moon pendant swing about in the air. "But I'm afraid you're going to have to cancel your plans for tomorrow night. Have you so easily forgotten, my little swan king?"

Ichigo said nothing, wondering exactly what Aizen meant, but just when he was about to ask, the brunette elaborated.

"Tomorrow night is the new moon."

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><p>...<p>

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><p><strong>AN: So sorry to split this up too! **But come on, this was getting a little long-winded. Next part will be the conclusion. Oh and another contest entry. :D Special thanks to **faithnfantasy **for letting me use it in the contest and for submitting such an awesome request! Oh, and for all the kind words and encouragement, you're amazing chica!

Hope everyone liked this, it was completely exhausting to write, and thank you for all the lovely reviews and requests! Just don't forget when you make a request that it has to be inspired by some form of media or it has to be historical. See you guys and gals later. :D


	8. GrimmIchi Moonlight Part II

**Summary**: Prince Ichigo is taken away from the love of his life, the Prince Grimmjow, and put under a spell by the Lord Aizen that turns him into a swan by day, only able to turn back into a human when the moonlight hits the lake he now resides in. But neither of these princes are just going to give up when it comes to their love.

**Warnings**: AU, yaoi, slight violence, reads somewhat like a Disney movie.

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><p><strong>Moonlight Part II<strong>

A Grimmjow/Ichigo inspired by the ballet _Swan Lake_

Written for **faithnfantasy**

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><p>"Grimmy, stop pacing, you're making me nervous!" the Sovereign Princess Nelliel exclaimed, gripping onto her son's formal tunic and forcibly making him sit in the chair closest to her. Grimmjow barely even resisted, as he had been pacing rather frantically beforehand, but he couldn't help it. For the first time in his life, he was tense with nerves, wound like a violin string pulled far too tight.<p>

"Sorry," he murmured, his knee bouncing up and down as he still didn't calm down. He couldn't relax, not one bit.

Ichigo was out there somewhere, trying to find his way back to him.

Finding the other prince, the love of his life, after a year of searching had been amazing, just like a dream. Though he hadn't ever given up on finding the orangette, there had been times when he had thought that he may never lay eyes on the other prince again and it had nearly destroyed him. Having his best friend turned lover ripped away from him in the blink of an eye had been devastating, and then, just like that, they had been reunited. Only to be separated once more.

Grimmjow hung his head, his heart rate increasing exponentially as he clutched at his chest. It felt like he was suffocating with worry, his tunic suddenly too tight around his neck. What if Ichigo had been intercepted by that bastard Aizen? What if he had gotten lost trying to get to the castle? What if he had run into a band of thieves in the forest? What if he had tripped over a fallen tree trunk and broken his ankle and was lying there, waiting for someone to come and find him?

He should've never left Ichigo behind, not when he had just found him again, had finally held that lithe frame in his arms and smelled that amazing scent of vanilla and gingerbread that was so distinctly Ichigo it had been almost enough to bring him to knees. He should've swept the orangette over his shoulder in that instant and bodily carried him away from that lake and back to his castle. Swan or human, he loved more Ichigo more than words could ever say.

"Grimmjow."

At the sharp tone his mother used, and the fact that she had used his full name instead of one of her many nicknames, the blunette looked up to see Nelliel looking down at him with concerned mossy gray eyes. She placed her hands on his shoulders, her full lips turning down at the corners into a frown.

"Grimmjow, is something the matter?" she asked rather seriously. She obviously knew something was bothering him. But he wasn't about to tell his mother that he had found Ichigo again, not when everyone thought he couldn't accept the "death" of the prince of Zangetsu. No, she would think him insane. He had to wait until Ichigo arrived, then everyone would see that he was alive.

"Someone important's comin' tonight, that's all, " Grimmjow brushed Nelliel's worry off, standing up from the chair and opening the door that connected the chambers to the ballroom, ignoring his mother's excited squeal and questions about just who this 'someone' was.

He was sure that someone would have come to get him if Ichigo had shown up already, and that he was supposed to wait to be announced as was tradition, but he just had to check. Perhaps his lover had arrived incognito and was waiting for him in the ballroom right then and there. Grimmjow felt his legs move him faster and faster through the doorway and into the decorated hall, where a few dozen guests were already gathered.

The Sovereign Princess had truly outdone herself, having adorned the entire grand ballroom in white and blue decor, the colors of their kingdom. But the prince had seen this all before more times than he could count and among the endless sea of brightly colored gowns and tunics he searched for one spot of sunset orange, his heart nearly faltering when he saw nothing.

Several guests greeted him as he walked by, obviously surprised that he was in the ballroom before being announced, but he paid them no heed. His mind was utterly consumed with thoughts of where Ichigo could possibly be, why he wasn't there as of yet. It was tearing the blunette apart inside, the constant anxiety.

"Fuck this," he muttered to himself, cutting through the crowd, the nobles all parting to make way for him as Grimmjow stormed through. He made quite a sight, sapphire eyes like the ocean during a hurricane as he made his way to the front of the ballroom, where the entrance from the palace gardens lay.

He was going to find Ichigo and bring him back to the castle, just as he should have done the night before.  
>Ignoring what was presumably his mother calling after him in confusion, he swung open one of the heavy doors, the humid, summer night air hitting him full in the face as he went to step outside.<p>

But someone blocked his way, making him freeze as if turned to stone, his hand gripping the door's edge so tightly he made a slight indent in the wooden frame. Because there stood a young male, a few inches shorter than him, with golden tangerine hair and cocoa brown eyes, dressed in a simple, black tunic that contrasted with his lightly bronzed skin beautifully.

"Ichigo."

The name was but a breath falling from his lips, the hand that wasn't holding the door frame falling out to reach for the other man, to feel that Ichigo was really there. Honestly, for a moment or two, Grimmjow had feared that the night before had been nothing but a dream and that he had never found his love again.

Ichigo looked up to him with a somewhat smug smirk on his face as the prince of Desagarron's fingers brushed against the pendant that was around his neck, the one that was carved out of sun and moonstone. The one that Grimmjow had given to the prince twice now.

It wasn't a second later that the blue-haired man had his arms wrapped around Ichigo's thinner form, crushing him to his chest. He had been so scared that the orangette had been lost to him once again. And though Ichigo was hesitant to raise his arms and embrace Grimmjow in return, the blunette barely noticed, pulling the boy away from him so that he could once more get an eyeful of that beautiful face that had haunted him for so long now. He swore he could lose himself in those warm, caramel-coffee eyes.

It was the startled gasp that came from behind him that startled Grimmjow from his reverie, though he didn't have to look behind him to see whom it was. He'd know that high pitched sound anywhere, as it did come from his own mother. Grinning, he wrapped an arm around Ichigo's shoulders and spun around so that they were facing the Sovereign Princess, and the several others that had gathered behind her to view the spectacle she had gasped at, and as soon as they all saw just whom was under Grimmjow's arm, they followed suit, clasping hands to their mouths in shock as they recognized the prince of Zangetsu that had been missing for a year now.

The blunette felt Ichigo wrap an arm around his waist and pull him along into the ballroom, strutting confidently, and his grin widened. It wasn't like his love to be so confident in the public eye, despite being of noble birth, but he was grateful that Ichigo wasn't the scared boy he had been the night before. He swore that he would make this Aizen pay for making his Ichigo so frightened.

"I-Ichigo," Princess Nelliel stuttered, gray-green eyes wide. "Is that really you?"

"The one and only," Ichigo said, uncharacteristically smug in a rather lilting voice. Grimmjow thought it must have been from the newly gained confidence considering his love had been able to break away from his pseudo-imprisonment in that damn lake. He made a mental note to ask the orangette about it after he whisked him away from the ballroom to have the gorgeous boy all to himself.

"We...we all thought you were dead," the Sovereign Princess whispered in reverence, a hand clutching her throat. Grimmjow closed his eyes, not wanting to hear any mention of Ichigo and 'dead' in the same sentence ever again.

"Well, I'm obviously _not_," the prince of Zangetsu said a little harshly, causing the Princess to take a step backwards and Grimmjow's arm to tighten around Ichigo's shoulders. He didn't like the fact that his mother was obviously upsetting his lover, his Ichigo. Without another word, the orangette steered him away with the arm around his waist, leading him to the middle of the ballroom, which was still empty even though there was light music being played by the small band of musicians hired for the event.

There were more gasps of shock and widened eyes as they stepped into the center of the room, but Grimmjow could care less. Ichigo was back in his arms again, like that year of pain had been nothing but a nightmare, now forgotten as most are. His love was back where he belonged, in the castle, with him. And he was never going to let anything come between them ever again.

Ichigo made a small purring noise and turned so that their bodies were pressed together, intertwining his arms around Grimmjow's neck. It was almost too intimate of a position to be in, in public. Not that the blue-haired prince had ever cared much about what other people thought of his public displays of affection.

But Ichigo always had.

"Grimmy, tell me ya love me, forever and ever."

Though it was strange for Ichigo to ever ask anything from him, not to mention the orangette was acting very...off tonight, he would never deny the other anything.

Grimmjow parted his lips, ready to let his vow of love fall from them.

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><p>It was dark and cold. He wasn't quite sure where he was, someplace underground probably, if the lack of light was anything to go by.<p>

There was a thick band of metal around his long neck, nearly crushing it with pressure. He was barely able to breathe, his chest heaving as he panted to get enough air. His wheezing filled the room he was in with sound, the only one that he could make out besides the steady dripping noise of a water leak somewhere to his left. He couldn't see that far in the dark, so he was actually only guessing it was a water leak.

He had most likely been in that room for several hours now, ever since Aizen had caught him right after Grimmjow had left him.

_Grimmjow_.

Ichigo let out a pained cry thinking of his blue-haired lover, the one that was right now being duped into believing that he had come for him, that he broken free of Aizen to see him at his castle. It was all so wrong, _so _wrong. He had seen Shiro after Aizen had transformed him with one of his evil spells, enchanting the cruel albino into looking just like him, the white hair turning orange, inverted eyes dissolving into brown, and pasty skin gaining color to perfectly resemble him. It had been sickening to look at and he thought he might throw up just thinking about it, thinking about Shiro talking to Grimmjow as if he were Ichigo, touching him, _kissing _him.

Ichigo gave a low hiss and his wings shuddered in revulsion at the mental image of someone so repulsive touching his love in such a way.

Yes, he was still in his swan form. He had been kept away from the lake that day when the sun had set a few hours ago, as he had obviously been chained up in this room somewhere in Aizen's dungeon. But even if he had been able to get to the lake, it still would have been for naught, as tonight was the new moon.

And the new moon meant no moonlight to touch his feathers and transform him back to his human self until the sun rose. And that meant that he couldn't even try to rush to the castle and warn Grimmjow, because he had no doubt that Aizen would try to kill him.

Ichigo would have cried if his tears hadn't already all been lost the night before, when he had first been locked up in this room. He was too tired to cry, too devastated that his Grimmjow may lose his life and it would be all his fault. He had been so stupid to kiss and embrace the man, let alone show him his true form.

He should have let Grimmjow pierce his heart with that arrow.

However, before he could further wallow in his self-pity, a sudden scraping sound caught his attention and, unwittingly, he jerked his head up to see what had made the sound, only to regret it when the metal around his neck dug into his feathered skin and light spilled into his vision making his eyes water and burn as they had been so accustomed to the dark.

Blinking a few times, he recognized the sound of footsteps on the stone floor and felt a swell of panic rise up in him. The chain attached to the metal band around his neck rattled as he shook his head back and forth as the figure that had opened the door to the room he was being kept in stepped out of the light so that Ichigo could make out just who it was.

The silver-hued hair and slitted eyes were all too familiar.

Gin.

"Hello there, swan king," the snake-like man greeted, crouching down on bended knee beside him. Ichigo hissed again, the only way he could warn the mage-in-training to get away from him. What was he planning on doing? He knew the silver-haired man was practically Aizen's second in command and was probably sent here to either torture him or just end his life altogether.

Maybe Ichigo should just let him. The promise of the end of all his pain sounded pleasing to him at this point, even if meant the end of everything. But maybe if he couldn't be with Grimmjow in this life, he could be with his love in the next. A cliche thing to say, yes, but Ichigo was far, far past caring at that moment, hanging his head and waiting for whatever Gin was about to bestow upon him, whether that be pain or death.

However, when he saw out of the corner of his eye the man wave his hand and wiggle his fingers and expected both of those things in rapid succession, instead he felt the metal band around his neck break into two and fall to the stone floor with a soft clang, immediately allowing the former prince to better breathe. Blinking in confusion, he raised his head to see Gin still smirking down at him, but for some reason, the man looked much less...sinister.

"Ready ta fly ta yer Prince Charmin', swan king?"

The absolute bewilderment must have shown on Ichigo's face because Gin chuckled and patted his head with one bony, long-fingered hand before scooping the swan off of the ground and holding him to his side. Ichigo squawked weakly in indignation but didn't try to break free for he was far too confused.

Was this just all some sort of joke, or was Aizen's right hand man really trying to help him? It was all too much to believe the latter. The student enchanter carried him through a brightly lit, pure white hallway until they came to a door at the end and stepped through, revealing the dark summer night and its moonless sky.

Gin lifted Ichigo up with both hands so that they were staring each other dead on, only the former's eyes still looked to be closed even though his trademark broad smirk had lessened a bit, giving him a more serious appearance.

"Shirosaki's gonna try ta make yer prince declare his love fer you ta him. If he does tha', the curse on ya will become permanent, no more changin' back into a human."

Ichigo's heart stopped. He would forever be a swan?

"Head south an' fly ta the castle and stop 'im. I'll try ta hold Aizen off fer ya, jus' promise me one thing." Gin's voice was not in his usual mocking, lilting tone but instead a rather austere one. And somehow this made the former prince trust him, and so he nodded his head in acquiescence.

"After all this is over, ya spare me any punishmen' and let me leave tha country wit' Ran."

Ichigo's beak must have dropped to the ground. Did Gin mean Ran as in...Rangiku? His fellow enchanted swan?

Huh, so _that's_ where she had been disappearing to all this time.

To show he agreed, all the swan could do was nod his head once more, his wings shuffling a bit as Gin loosened his grip before letting go completely, forcing him to flap them wildly lest he fall to the ground.

"Hurry up, ya don' have much time," the silver-haired man cautioned before turning around, and in the blink of an eye, vanishing back into the purely white building, leaving Ichigo alone. The former prince beat his wings against the night air, ascending into the sky and heading southward and found the path Grimmjow had told him about rather easily, thanking the gods silently for small mercies.

Traveling over the tops of the trees as fast as he could, racing against the clock that was steadily ticking the minutes towards the time that Grimmjow would profess his love for him, Ichigo, to the wrong person, to Shiro. He wanted to believe that the man he loved wouldn't do such a thing, could sense that there was an impostor in his presence, but he knew that Grimmjow, though clever when he wanted to be, wouldn't think twice of declaring his love for him. It was one of the the many things he loved about the prince. And perhaps would be his downfall.

Ichigo shook his head vehemently and flapped his long, porcelain-feathered wings faster and harder, pushing himself beyond his limits in order to reach the castle in time. And it wasn't twenty minutes before he finally saw it come into sight, the towering turrets and brightly lit windows familiar and welcoming.

Would he have felt it if he was too late?  
>Circling around the sprawling castle ground, his toffee brown eyes searched around frantically for the grand entrance that would allow him access into the ballroom. He was certain that if he could just get Grimmjow to see him, that the blunette would then realize he had been fooled.<p>

Gliding across the top of one of the turrets, Ichigo careened down the stone wall of the castle, pausing when he reached a colossal open window that was one of the many surrounding the castle's ballroom. Inside he could see the ball's noble guests gathered about on the sides of the room, a lone pair in the center of everything, and it was there that he could make an achingly familiar head of turquoise blue hair and next to it, orange.

The prince of Desagarron and Shiro posing as the prince of Zangetsu were intertwined, the latter's arms wrapped around Grimmjow's neck as they stared into each other's eyes. Ichigo noticed that the pendant, _his _pendant was hanging around the albino's neck as he threaded his fingers through silken blue locks.

A swan's equivalent of a snarl passed through Ichigo's beaked mouth and he rushed forward in order to sweep into the ballroom and show Grimmjow that he was still in swan form, that that _thing _wasn't him, that he was right here. But just as he was about to let out a loud shriek in order to gain the blunette's attention, something akin to two steel bars wrapped around him and something clamped over his beak, rendering him unable to make a sound.

Instinctively, he struggled with the bonds, trying to break his wings free from the crushing grip that was around them. That was, until he heard a soft chuckle above him, mild and so disgustingly pleased.

"Don't interrupt the show now, little swan king, this is the best part."

Unbidden tears came to his eyes as he realized the hopelessness of the situation, of just whom was holding him, restraining him from flying to Grimmjow and warning him of just what he was about to do. The weight of dark, oppressive magic settled in the air around him as suddenly the voices of the ballroom's occupants steadily grew louder, until he could make out a very distinct one, unnaturally loud and ringing in his ears.

"Grimmy, tell me ya love me, forever and ever."

He felt nauseous as he watched those two figures press closer together, bile rising in his throat as he watched the love of his life tenderly caress the face of another, a face that looked just like his, that was supposed to be his.

_Why couldn't Grimmjow see that wasn't him, that he was about to pledge his love to another?_

A small whimpering sound escaped from him, despite the hand that was holding his beak shut as a voice hauntingly familiar, like rough velvet, spoke next.

"I love ya, forever and ever."

It was like Ichigo had taken an arrow to the heart, quite literally. He felt the pain in his chest, it was ripping him apart from the inside out and it _hurt_, hurt so much he wanted to curl up and die. Life wasn't worth living anymore. He couldn't do anything right, couldn't even protect the one thing he loved most in the world from the evil of the sorcerer that had shifted him so that the man was holding Ichigo in his arms like a baby.

As the pain stopped racking his body like an endless monsoon, he felt all his energy deplete and he was left boneless, feeling completely hopeless as Shiro's cackling laughter pierced the air. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Grimmjow took a step backwards in surprise, eyes narrowed as he apparently came to the conclusion that the man before him was not Ichigo, hand going to the hilt of his sword.

Another chuckle came from somewhere above his head and very suddenly all of the lights in the great ballroom were extinguished, the nobles all gasping and looking about for the cause, which they found as soon as the the enchanter holding Ichigo stepped right through the window, his body several feet in the air, which caught the attention of everyone in the ballroom, including Grimmjow, whose eyes widened as he took in the prone form of a swan in the man's arms.

"Ichigo."

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><p>The name fell from his lips without thought, just as it had done earlier that night, but that had been in joy and this...this was pure horror.<p>

He'd known that Ichigo had been acting strangely, calling him 'Grimmy' and telling him to tell him he loved him, not to mention snapping at his mother and very publicly displaying affection. But he'd just thought that perhaps the orangette was acting that way because it had been such a long time since he had been back at the castle, his home away from home in the summer months they had spent together ever since they could remember.

He was so stupid, so blind. He should've known that this Ichigo hadn't been his beloved, but he hadn't wanted to believe that after he had just been reunited with the love of his life, not when his pendant of the sun and moon was hanging around that elegant neck.

And there Ichigo was, still in his swan form, and in the arms of a man with sleek brown hair and cold eyes to match. He looked so frail, so weak, like...like he was _dying_.

Letting a choked gasp pass through his lips, he reached for his sword and drew it, the sharp blade glinting with his own intent to kill the man that was holding his Ichigo, the one that was without a doubt the one whom had placed the curse upon the former prince.

"Aizen," he growled, meeting those icy brown eyes with his own cyanic fire orbs, taking a few steps forward. Anyone else would've cowered in fright at the murderous vibes practically rolling off of his body, but this enchanter simply smiled just a tad bit more, such a small motion that Grimmjow barely even noticed it.

"Oh my, you must be Prince Grimmjow," Aizen said in a mockingly cordial tone, and with a small gesture, held out his arms. "This belongs to you, then. Here, catch."

And with that, Ichigo's body was rapidly falling from the place where Aizen was still standing in midair. It was purely on impulse that Grimmjow reacted fast enough to run forward several steps and catch the swan with one arm, cradling Ichigo to his chest. For a second, he forgot Aizen was even there as he stared down at those oh so familiar warm brown eyes, now dulled and unfocused. It was only the orangette's unsteady breathing that let Grimmjow know he was alive.

"I know you are probably upset with me, but this is all your doing, little prince," the sorcerer commented, sighing softly, causing Grimmjow to growl and look up to where Aizen was shaking his head, almost looking remorseful. "Pledging your love to another? How thoughtless of you."

The prince of Desagarron didn't have anything to say to that, he felt anger and distraught rise up within him to the point where it was making it difficult to speak. Had the fact that he had said 'I love you' to another person, even if it was meant for Ichigo, somehow injured him? Again, the piercing laughter of the one whom had impersonated Ichigo rang in his ears from behind him.

He would kill him as well, if it was the last thing he ever did.

"No matter though, I shall be kind and end your misery."

Grimmjow barely had enough time to shift his body and raise his sword so that the spell would deflect off of it. Aizen had moved so fast that he had barely even caught the man raising his hand to shoot a beam of green light towards him from the tips of his fingers. Shocked gasps and screams made for a cacophony of sound as he snarled, regarding the sorcerer's pleased, small smile.

However, before anything else could happen an explosion of purple light by the window Aizen had entered from rocked the castle to its very core, stones falling loose from the walls. And after the dust settled, there stood another man in the air as well, though he had hair like silver and was dripping what looked like blood to land on the floor twenty feet below him. And again, before anything else could occur, the newcomer let more purple light explode from his hand, landing not five feet away from Grimmjow, whom immediately ducked and rolled away, still holding Ichigo to his chest.

When he looked back up, his eyes widened as he saw that where the impostor had once been was now covered in chalky white skin and alabaster hair, laying face down on the floor. If he wasn't dead, then he was heavily unconscious if the trail of blood staining the back of his head was anything to go by.

The blunette let his gaze fall upon the silver-haired man yet again, trying to decipher whether he was friend or foe.

"It seems you are not dead after all, Gin," Aizen commented lightly, as if making note of the weather. The other didn't even comment, sending something that almost looked like amethyst fire from his fingertips that Aizen was forced to combat with his own green magic, the colors reflecting in Grimmjow's sapphire eyes that were pulled away from the spectacle by the sound of a familiar voice.

"Grimmjow, give Ichigo to me."

It was his mother, her gray-green eyes morbidly serious as she crouched by him. Most of the guests had vacated the ballroom by this point, having fled in fright the first time Aizen had shot the sickly green light at their prince. But the Sovereign Princess was brave, and clever enough to figure out that the swan in Grimmjow's left arm was the former prince of Zangetsu.

She knew he wanted to fight Aizen, that he wanted to kill the sorcerer for hurting Ichigo, and if there was anyone he trusted to look after the orangette whilst he went about doing so, it was his mother. Hesitantly, he let Nelliel take Ichigo from him and frowned deeply down at the still unresponsive boy trapped in a swan's body. Assuring himself that Ichigo would be safe for now, he rose to his full height and stalked towards where the battle between the silver-haired man, Gin, and Aizen was still taking place.

He watched as deep amaranth ropes sprang from seemingly out of thin air and wrapped themselves around the latter's body, pinning his arms and legs together. Once cold brown eyes narrowed and heated up in anger as Aizen summoned his green magic around him, pressing against his binds, but they seemed to hold fast.

In the blink of an eye, the man named Gin had vanished from the air and was suddenly beside Grimmjow, holding out his hand, in it a bow and a singular arrow made out of what looked like gold rapidly materializing. The prince regarded the silver-haired mage with suspicious marine eyes, the question obvious in his face.

"I know ya prob'ly don' trust me much, but take mah word on this," the mage said, his very thin eyes slitting open just the slightest bit to reveal icy blue irises that shone with a seriousness Grimmjow suspected wasn't there very much. "I'll distract 'im and ya shoot 'im wit' this, right in that heart. Be quick 'bout it, ya've only got one shot."

"It will kill him?" Grimmjow, asked taking the bow and arrow and letting his sword drop to the ground. He chanced a glance up towards Aizen to see that the ropes of the other's were beginning to give away, the air feeling heavy and thick as magic swirled about.

"Maybe, maybe not," was all the silver-haired man said before shooting back up into the air, gathering a glowing orb of aubergine in his right hand, releasing it just as the ropes looked like they had caught fire, turning to ash and disappearing. However, this time Aizen was ready for it and easily deflected, sending several beams of emerald green light towards the other.

Grimmjow grasped the bow firmly in his hand, knocking the arrow. He took aim, easily finding a clear shot. Almost too easily as Aizen's next spell was so strong it sent Gin flying into the stone wall of the ballroom so hard, several cracks and fissures appeared in it. He slid down the ground and was still, and that was when Grimmjow let his arrow fly.

It was a direct hit, straight through Aizen's heart, just like it should have been, it should have worked, should have sent the sorcerer tumbling to the ground in his final moments before dying. It should have worked, but Grimmjow's eyes widened as he watched Aizen look at the arrow through his chest with a slightly raised eyebrow, almost casually regarding the thing before reaching up and pulling it out swiftly as if it was but a splinter.

"I suppose I should return the favor," he sighed, his cool composure back now that he had vanquished Gin.

Grimmjow had no time to react before a reedy streak of electric green light and a burst of pure white filled his vision.

* * *

><p>Ichigo could say without a doubt he had failed Grimmjow more times than he could count, but he wasn't about to just sit idly by and watch him die. He couldn't do it, his entire being rejected the idea like poison.<p>

He had been completely unfocused in the past few minutes, like his soul had left his body and he was watching everything from above. He had felt so weak, like he couldn't move one muscle in his body, but he had felt an immense joy when Grimmjow had caught him moments before he had hit the hard stone floor. But Ichigo's clarity had slowly begun to return to him as he had been passed from Grimmjow to the Sovereign Princess, whose concerned mossy eyes had sparkled with concern above him.

He hadn't wanted to leave Grimmjow and so his eyes had traveled to find the blunette, only to see that sickly green light of Aizen's headed towards him. His body had reacted before his mind had even comprehended just what was going on. It was an out of body experience, his wings pushing him from the princess' arms as he flew at a speed he didn't even know he was capable of, throwing himself in front of that emerald light.

Ichigo didn't even comprehend that he done so before he felt his body pierced with that deadly beam, propelling him several feet backwards, into something solid and yet soft, something that smelled like the summer rain and peppermint and filled his fading vision with blue.

Was this was dying felt like? It wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it would be. In fact, it was almost pleasant, a slightly warm, tingling feeling spreading through his limbs, which he could feel shifting and growing, pure white feathers falling to the ground below him.

He was in Grimmjow's arms and he was human once again, this he knew. He guessed that was all he could ever ask for, even if he was dying.

His vision, just as his body changed back into human form, became less cloudy and he could make out the raw pain on the face he loved so much, fiery sapphire eyes swirling with a mixture of anger and sorrow. It pulled on his heartstrings and he felt his throat become choked with tears he didn't want to fall in his last moments.

Ichigo's eyes were reluctantly pulled away from the beauty of Grimmjow's face, the last thing he ever wanted to see, at the sound of a shrill, pained and angry cry. He felt his heart nearly stop at the sight of Aizen clutching his chest as a brightly golden light spread from where the left side of his chest, where Grimmjow's arrow had pierced him. It was such a pretty thing to see, all glittering and almost a heavenly shade of gold as it slowly consumed Aizen's entire body, the last thing left being the desperate, dying yells of the sorcerer whose control had snapped in his final moments.

Confused, Ichigo felt his vision grow clearer, his body no longer feeling weak, but perhaps stronger than it ever had.

"Ichigo?" came the uncharacteristically soft voice of Grimmjow. It seemed that neither of them could be bothered to care about just how Aizen, and even though both princes had been convinced that the spell Ichigo had taken for the blunette was a fatal, they knew that he would be okay, that everything was going to be okay.

"I love you, Grimmjow, forever and ever," Ichigo said somewhat abruptly, but he had to say those words, had to take them back from Shiro and Aizen. They were his to say, no one else's.

Grimmjow decided to put his response into action, sealing his lips over Ichigo's in a searingly, bone-melting kiss that would have put Romeo and Juliet to shame, for they had never had a happy ending, but these two princes knew they would.

A sound of stone scraping against stone caught their attention and they broke apart just enough so that they could look over to where the Sovereign Princess was helping a miraculously alive Gin out of the rubble that he had been buried under after his fall. Nelliel took his hand and helped him to his feet, revealing that the silver-haired man, while bloodied and bruised and looking like he was on the verge of passing out, still had that broad grin on his face.

"I knew ya could do it, little swan king," he said in his usual lilting tone. "Oops, guess I can' call ya tha' no more."

Ichigo was out of Grimmjow's arms and on his feet before anyone could realize what was going on, hands on his hips as he glared at the mage that had formerly been Aizen's right hand man.

"You _planned _this?" he asked incredulously, sensing from behind him that Grimmjow had also risen from the ground and was growling lowly under his breath, obviously as angered by this as Ichigo.

"A course, e'eryone knows tha' the only way to vanquish evil is wit' true love, sacrifice, etcetera," Gin said as if was the most apparent thing in the world, listing slightly to the side as it seemed he would drop to the floor any moment. And he did before Ichigo or Grimmjow could say anything else on the matter, the Sovereign Princess catching the silver-haired man before he could fall to the ground. She looked slightly shocked as he started murmuring about "Ran" in a way that could easily be taken for insanity had he not obviously taken several blows to the head.

Ichigo felt his face flush red with anger as he didn't like playing a pawn to anyone, but then he felt a large hand cover his shoulder and he looked up to see Grimmjow's sapphiric eyes dancing with mirth. He felt his anger leave him in a moment, blithe at the fact that now he could stare into those eyes all he wanted, but still raised an eyebrow, wondering what had brought on that look.

"I love you, Ichigo, forever and ever," he said and the orangette felt his lips stretch into a blissful smile, but just when he was about to respond, Grimmjow lay a finger over his lips, silencing him. "Now, I think ya deserve some punishment fer pulling that stunt earlier."

There's really no point in telling you that there were indeed many happy endings that night.

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><p><strong>AN: **Thanks so much everyone for all the lovely reviews on the last chapter and I hope you enjoyed this! Ah, Gin, I had been neglecting him in my fics lately and he deserves some more of my love. :) And yes, the ending was lame, but...I couldn't help myself. :D

I have totally been forgetting my suggested listening! I feel so bad now. ;_; Well here's the list for this story.

_Suggested Listening:_

"Cry" by Alexx Calise

"Remember Me" by Imagica

"Letters From the Sky" by Civil Twilight

"Lovesong" by Adele

By the way, if you've ever seen the movie The Swan Princess, have you ever noticed how dumb Prince Derek is? it's like everything is his fault...because he's so dumb.


	9. GrimmIchi Borderlines Part I

_Beta'ed by the awesome Kaaos. _

**Summary**: The colors of their uniforms aren't the only thing that separate Grimmjow and Ichigo. The fact that they are inherent enemies, bred to hate each other, does as well. North and South, vampire and werewolf, they were never meant to be. And yet, they were.

**Warnings**: Historical AU (American Civil War), yaoi, lemon, language, violence. **Also**, Federal = North and Confederate = South. Will be three or more chapters.

* * *

><p><strong>Borderlines<strong>

_A Grimmjow/Ichigo AU short story_

Written for **wolfsparadise**

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><p><em>The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Atlanta, Georgia<strong>

**June 15th, 1865**

* * *

><p>The blazing summer sun was almost unbearable that day, which was surely the hottest of the year so far, and Ichigo Kurosaki was sweating bullets under his linen shirt, the fabric sticking to his bronzed skin. He barely even felt the heat, strange as that may seem, because instead of the sun, he burned from the inside with determination. He could feel that today would be the day that he finally found <em>him<em>.

A small smile stretching his lips and fanning himself with his straw hat, he wiped the moisture along his brow as he walked alongside the paved road. Horses and carriages passed by him, most of them carrying supplies and Federal soldiers stationed in the city to help with the rebuilding. It had been only about seven months since the very same forces those soldiers originated from had almost burned the city to the ground, sparing only its churches and hospitals at the desperate plea from a holy man. Ichigo was glad he hadn't been there to witness that; he wouldn't have been able to set fire to someone's home even under threat of death, but he understood why the others had done so, why they thought it had to have been done.

At that time, November of last year, he had been positioned on the Virginia border; the place where time and time again North and South had collided with deadly force, the casualties and injured climbing to impossible numbers. Even now, the war having been officially over for just about a month, men from both sides limped along the road Ichigo traveled on, clutching at half torn away arms and still gaping shrapnel wounds, the emotional trauma they had all endured invisible and intangible, but still very much there. The orangette didn't know how he managed to make it through the war without being permanently physically damaged, his reckless behavior had surely gotten him into trouble enough times for it to happen.

That wasn't to say that he wasn't permanently damaged in other ways that were both lovely and terrible, visions of white fangs and snow and the most brilliant shade of blue still flashing through his mind at the strangest of times.

"Watch it, boy," a gravelly voice sounded to his left, full of warning. Ichigo, almost succumbing to the torrid memories of that past winter, had almost walked right into a grizzled old man leaning on a wooden crutch, as a part of his right leg was missing. It was easy to see through Ichigo's war trained eyes that the injury was due to a cannon blast.

"Sorry," he said, placing his hat back on his head and about to continue on, when he stopped and turned to the man before he could hobble away. "Excuse me. Do you happen to know where the clerk is?"

The man trained light, haunted eyes on Ichigo, licking his lips before nodding his head once and raising one gnarled finger to point at the end of the street they were on, where only the wooden structures of a few buildings remained, charred and skeletal.

"Just 'round the corner there," the man said, retaining his gruff nature but softening his tone just the slightest bit. Everyone knew why people went to see the 'clerk' and this was a time when most of the population held a healthy respect for the dead, having seen so many die in the few past years, so his slight change in attitude wasn't so surprising. War did that; it changed people and how they viewed the world, whether for better or worse.

Ichigo wasn't quite sure how he himself had been affected by the realities of battle...and the sole comfort he had had for that month or so he had been taken captive. All he knew was that he would never again be the same.

A murmured thanks and a nod of his head to the old man and then he was off, nearly running down the street, something not so far from hope welling up inside of him. He was cautious to give it that 'h' word, because then that would mean that if he didn't find what he was looking for, had been searching for for nearly a month now, he would only be the more disappointed.

But he was only fooling himself, because it didn't matter what he called the emotion he was feeling at that moment, he knew he would be inconsolable for hours if he turned up empty handed yet again. . Not that anyone would be there to console him, anyway. He had left his kin behind in Boston in order to return to the South and look for _him_.

He rounded the corner to see the place the old man had directed him to immediately, for it was very apparent that the clerk was in the only inhabitable structure on the Atlanta street, considering there was a line of at least a few dozen people, both men and women, that spilled out of the building and down about a hundred feet, only a few steps away from where Ichigo was standing.

Frowning heavily and feeling his heart sink at the sight, he managed to get into line right before a crowd of people suddenly came from seemingly nowhere, rushing to get into the line behind him. He also managed to avoid the elbows and feet that came his way as they all tried to get as far ahead as possible, and when they finally stopped and stood still, not an unpleasant word was exchanged. They were all here for the same reason.

As he got closer and closer to the building where the clerk was, time seemed to move at a glacial pace, and everyone thought they were going to get a reprieve from the blazing heat of the summer sun when clouds rolled in, gray and threatening. Instead the heavens opened and started pouring rain over the city.

No one moved from their place in the line to seek shelter and Ichigo was grateful to have at least his hat to keep the water from pelting his face even as it completely soaked his clothes through by the time he got to the entrance of the building, and he felt that dreaded hope well up in his chest.

The clerk was a little, elderly man, bespectacled and dabbing at his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. He didn't even look up from the mass of papers in front of him when he addressed the orangette.

"Name and rank."

"Actually, I'm here for someone from the Night Division," Ichigo said, causing the clerk to look up with suspicious eyes.

"That information is classified and-" He paused when the younger male reached inside of his shirt to reveal a thin chain around his neck, on which was pinned what was obviously once the badge of a lieutenant colonel, two stars under a black star, the rare emblem of the Night Division. The edges were frayed and held gray pieces of fabric, like it had been torn away from the uniform it had been sewn onto, and where the last name of the badge's owner would usually be instead read _Sexta_.

The clerk frowned but nodded once before reaching under his desk to place on top of the table an envelope marked with a wax seal with the same black star that was on the badge. He cut through the seal with a letter opener, and withdrew the contents inside. Ichigo clutched onto the side of the desk, not daring to even think of what could be even written there.

"I'm sorry, but...after the lieutenant colonel of the Night Division was dishonorably discharged for abandoning his troops, there has been no new information on his whereabouts."

Ichigo's hold on the edge of the desk tightened momentarily before he let go, letting out a deep breath.

"Thank you, anyway," he said before turning on his heel and heading out of the building, stuffing the chain and badge back under his thin, linen shirt. He walked down the street, the rain still beating down heavily on his back as he dragged his feet across the ground.

He knew what had been written on that piece of parchment was a lie, that the other higher ups of the Night Division had seen their lieutenant colonel after he'd 'abandoned' his troops.

He knew because he'd seen it with his own two eyes, he'd been there that night when the division of inhumanly strong and bloodthirsty Confederate soldiers had caught up with the both of them, and he'd fought tooth and nail, only to be dragged away from the one he was fighting for.

* * *

><p><strong>Somewhere near the Virginia Border<strong>

**November 15th, 1864**

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><p>The Virginia border was bitterly cold this time of year, but it had yet to snow, and for that Ichigo was grateful. His standard issue Federal uniform did little to protect him from the freezing wind, the chill seeping in through the fabric, so he could only imagine how awful it would feel if he had to trudge through his patrol in a blizzard.<p>

He was in the forest, the deciduous trees still looking dense and all-consuming despite their bare branches. And it was just past midnight, the crescent moon that hung in the sky the only thing that lit his path. It was like something out of a storybook, when the hero bravely made his way through a dark, enchanted forest, fighting monsters along the way.

Ichigo snorted, his breath crystallizing in the dark air. He knew most wouldn't consider him to be the hero, but rather one of the monsters, vicious and flesh-eating.

He adjusted the rucksack on his shoulder and stepped over the trunk of a fallen tree, not making a sound even as his regulation booted feet made contact with the ground full of dead leaves. In fact, except for whistling of the wing every so often through the tree branches, the entire forest seemed to be eerily silent.

The orange-haired boy paused in his tracks, swiveling on the backs of his heels to scan the surrounding area with narrowed ochre eyes, thin tangerine eyebrows pulling together in a contemplative expression. His nearly perfect night vision allowed him to see almost anything that moved even the slightest bit despite the night being a foreboding pitch black. However, his best sense was that of smell.

Ichigo lifted his head slightly in the air to sniff at the scents that carried on the wind, catching only the familiar fragrance of the forest and winter night air for a few moments. And then something else overwhelmed them, something that held notes of mint and rainwater but was overwhelmed by a cloying metallic and sickly sweet smell that burned his nose. Ichigo would know that scent anywhere.

_Bloodsucker. _

"Shit." He reached for the Enfield rifle musket strapped to his shoulder, flipping it to lay horizontally, one hand underneath the barrel and another on the trigger. "Shit, shit, shit."

_The Night Division wasn't supposed to be anywhere near this border, so why was he able to catch one of their troop's very obvious scent in this forest? _

Ichigo instinctively glanced up at the dark sky with a waxing crescent moon high above him, as though it would somehow suddenly expand and become full. It didn't, of course, and he felt as if his heart turned to stone and dropped into his stomach. Not often did he feel fear, but at that moment it seemed to course through every fiber of his being.

The distinctive sound of a twig snapping had him whipping around, rifle in hand and one eye closed while the other searched wildly for what had caused the sound.

A dark chuckle from somewhere above him sent a deathly chill colder than any winter into his very bones and he gulped audibly before looking up. What he saw exceeded his expectations.

Up in one of the trees, standing on one of the lower, thick branches, not twenty feet away from where Ichigo stood, was what appeared to be a young man in a high-ranking Confederate uniform in the standard dull gray. And while his face was like that of the hero in the storybook, handsome, beautiful even, with icy ,piercing sapphire eyes and a shock of mussed turquoise hair, his wicked grin featuring two pointed, fatally sharp fangs revealed that he, like Ichigo, was one of the monsters.

There was no doubt that the seemingly normal, attractive man that leered down at him was every bit a vampire.

And let's just say that like the North and South, Ichigo's kind and vampires did not mix.

"What's a cute little pup like you doing out here all alone?" His voice matched his appearance, every bit as lovely and vicious, and it mocked the orangette with its coy tone and aristocratic Southern drawl. Ichigo scowled deeply, but didn't say anything, his brain racing with potential ways he could escape the fate that seemed inevitable.

He couldn't run, couldn't fight, couldn't do anything, not when the moon was anything but full.

"Not very talkative, I see," the newcomer said, stepping off of the tree branch. He seemed to defy gravity as he landed lightly on his feet, wide, hungry grin never wavering. "Or are you just that _scared_?"

"Fuck off." Ichigo's growl was that of his inner beast, clawing to get out but trapped inside of its human prison.

"Ooh, feisty." The blue-haired bloodsucker licked his lips, a slightly crazed gleam lighting up his already stunning eyes, before blurring with inhuman speed to reappear not a hand's breadth away from Ichigo, who gasped in surprise and tried to back away, but was stopped when the other grabbed the Enfield by its wood and metal barrel, using his bare hand to bend the rifle to a ninety degree angle. "Did you really think that would help you?"

He threw the now useless thing to the ground and Ichigo had never felt more defenseless. Even with the strength and speed that was above a human's he had in his current form, there was no way he could go up against a vampires, especially not if that badge was to be taken into consideration.

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with." The orangette didn't like to be toyed with, and he could already see that this monster with an angel's face liked to play with his food.

The blunette's left eyebrow arched and his grin grew even wider, if that was possible. He was so close now that Ichigo got a clearer whiff of the mint and fresh rainwater that lay under the telltale saccharine scent of a leech.

"You don't have to play brave little soldier boy, for me, little wolf pup." The other male leaned in closer and reflexively Ichigo bent backwards, trying to get as far away from that leering grin as possible, but still not try to run away and then engage in a game of cat and mouse. "I can _hear _how fast your heart is beating..." the bloodsucker trailed off, reaching out a broad, tanned hand to brush his fingers against the pulse point of the orangette's throat. "And I'm not going to kill you..."

Ochre eyes went impossibly wide as the next second, in a motion too fast for even Ichigo to see, the blunette had drawn something metal from seemingly out of nowhere and slipped it over the slighter male's head, cinching it snugly around his throat and cutting off the breathy curse that would have escaped from Ichigo's lips.

The orangette reeled backwards, hands going up to pry at the metal..._collar_ that was now around his throat with all of his strength, only to find that that was now rapidly fading and he very suddenly felt exhausted.

The metal the collar was made out of was silver. Contrary to popular belief, silver wouldn't kill him, or burn him, but rather just debilitate his inhuman abilities when he was in his human form.

"Y-you bastard..." he gasped out, still trying to get the damned thing off of his neck even while his knees started to buckle and he felt as if he may black out at any second.

"Don't be mad at me, pup." The bloodsucker smiled viciously. "I'm just giving you a proper leash."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed at that and with the last dregs of strength he had that the silver hadn't sapped away, he jerked backwards headfirst. The chain the collar was attached to actually slipped a few inches out of the blue-haired male's grasp before he tightened his hold on it, grin falling.

"Still have some bite left in you, yeah?" The vampire pulled on the chain so harshly then that Ichigo let out a yelp and was forcibly brought to his knees, only to be forced fast first into the pile of dead leaves on the frozen ground by the leech's foot on his back. "I'd suggest you get rid of that real quick-like...if you want to live, that is."

"You're not going to just suck all my blood out right here." Ichigo said, voice slightly muffled from his prostrate position and dripping with bitterness. An amused chuckle rang out from somewhere above him, closer than he would have guessed, meaning that the bloodsucker was bending over, his breath that smelled of blood and mint caressing tangerine locks of hair on the back of his neck.

"While I wouldn't mind having a little taste, especially since your rather tasty wolf blood would give me enough power to run up north and kill all of your filthy mutt kin, I'm supposed to bring you back unharmed, so we'll have to wait to have a little fun, now won't we?"

The blue-haired vampire didn't wait for Ichigo's reply before sweeping him up and over his shoulder, the orangette too tired and temporarily stunned to do much about it, despite the ire pumping through his veins at . Then they were running through the dead winter forest at a breakneck speed, bare trees blurring as they traveled by.

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><p>It was an hour or so later that Ichigo was ungraciously dropped to the ground, knocking him out of the somewhat comatose state he had slipped into when he'd been carried through the forest. He'd had to close his eyes in order not to feel sick in his weakened daze, and had started to drift off, trying to think of anything but the situation he was in now.<p>

"Stand up, unless you want me to drag you," the blue-haired bloodsucker said, wrapping the chained leash around his hand more firmly.

The orangette shook his head in order to gain clarity, and pushed himself off of the ground to stand on shaky legs, his knees nearly buckling under him. The silver had taken more of a toll on his body in the time that had passed, but he was still competent enough to grasp onto the last bit of dignity he had.

Blinking a few times, he saw that he was at the other end of the massive deciduous forest he'd been patrolling, which had been a good two hundred miles long. He also noted that he was about twenty feet away from the entrance to a Confederate fort, and not just any fort run by any division if the white flag emblazoned with a black star above the Confederate's red and blue flag was any indication. He'd been told about that symbol of the black star, that it belonged to the elite 'Night Division', and so he knew just by whom this fort was run.

Ichigo had just been taken into the vampires' den, their very base of operations full of inhuman, bloodsucking monsters.

He must have made a sound of disbelief, because his captor chuckled darkly before tugging on the chain attached to the collar around the Union soldier's throat.

"Come on, little wolf pup."

Ichigo snarled half-heartedly, but the other male paid him no mind as he forcibly led him to the wooden gates of the fort, which automatically opened for them and revealed the camp that lay inside.

The orangette was surprised to see that the inside of the vampire fort was just like any other, filled with rows of canvas tents and off-duty soldiers amiably chatting and toying with their musket rifles, lanterns lighting the area with a warm glow. It almost reminded Ichigo of the camp he'd left for his patrol mere hours before. They even had female troops milling about, allowed to fight for their country because of their superior status as an immortal being.

He kept his head high as he and the blue-haired bloodsucker walked through the row of tents and vampires, who all immediately stopped whatever they were doing to glare at the orange-haired young man, knowing what he was and how much they subsequently hated him as soon as they caught a whiff of his scent. A few hissed, snarled, growled, but not a one said anything. Most likely out of respect for the commanding officer that was leading Ichigo to the biggest tent of them all in the center of everything, the flap to which was lifted out of the way by a guard posted at the entrance for the two of them.

"Ah, Grimmjow. It's so nice to see you've returned safely," an eerily mild voice said as soon as the two of them entered. "And you've brought a present, as well."

The inside of the tent was much more lavish than any Ichigo had ever seen, the speaker, no doubt the leader of the bloodsuckers, lounging on a mass of pillows, while other high-ranking officers of the division were scattered about, silent as their eyes took in the newcomers.

As a leader of several dozens of vampires, the speaker was everything Ichigo expected him to be. An aristocratic, old-world air about him that the leeches were known for as he reclined against the pillows, a tumbler of scarlet liquid that certainly wasn't red wine in one poised hand. His physical appearance, though, was surprisingly as mild as his voice, with nondescript, pleasant features and coiffed chestnut brown hair and idle stare.

The Union solder had plenty of things to say about being called a 'present', but kept his mouth shut, not wanting to give the man the satisfaction.

"Yeah, I got him just like you wanted," the blunette vampire said, losing all trace of his earlier arrogance and mirth as he grumbled in a cross manner. Then he let the chained leash in his hand drop to the ground with a clatter, and for a second Ichigo was tempted to turn and run, before reason kicked in.

"Are you sure he's good enough for Lord Aizen? He looks kind of scrawny to me," a vampire that had to be close to seven feet tall said from the corner. One of his eyes was covered with an eye patch but the other beady one surveyed Ichigo disapprovingly.

The blue-haired male that Ichigo now knew as Grimmjow snarled, letting one of his fatally sharp canines show.

"I'm damn sure. I sensed his blood's power...it's got a real kick to it," he said, his eyes swiveling over to meet Ichigo's as he said the last part.

"I can feel that," the leader said, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit as they traveled over the orangette's lithe, navy-clad frame. Ichigo had to resist growling as he positively _felt _the bloodsucker reaching out with his senses to sniff at his purely wolf scent. "He will be perfect. Thank you for bringing him to me, my dear lieutenant."

Grimmjow said nothing, but Ichigo barely noticed. His brain had finally caught up with what was being said about him, grasping onto especially what his captor had said about sensing his blood's power.

Almost subconsciously, he took a step backwards, only to have two of the bloodsuckers behind him and blocking his exit in the blink of an eye. Ichigo had never felt more trapped in his entire life, or scared, and not just for himself either, but for all of his kin back home in the North if the vampires followed through on the plans they obviously had for him.

Not only would he die but every single one of his kin would as well, and then undoubtedly the South would win this war.

And it seemed he could do nothing to stop it.

"You may escort our guest to where he will be staying until the full moon," the leader, Lord Aizen, said nonchalantly.

Grimmjow didn't say or do anything in response besides grip Ichigo by the arm, the latter feeling the ice cold touch through the several layers of fabric, and lead him back outside into the cold orangette let a wave of hopelessness wash over him as he was shown to a smaller, but still large canvas tent.

Not a soul knew where he was, and unless he managed to develop a genius plan to escape the clutches of these filthy bloodsuckers... everything would be lost.

Ichigo didn't snap back to reality until he heard the distinct sound of metal against wood. Eyes refocusing from their glazed over state, he took in the fact that he had not been taken to a holding cell for prisoners of war, but rather what looked to be a commanding officer's personal tent as it had a nice cot, a bedside lantern and makeshift table, and a trunk at the end of the cot that was shut closed but had to contain personal effects. He also noted that Grimmjow was securing the end of his chain leash onto a wooden pole embedded deeply into the ground.

Outrage swelled up in him at that, furious at being tethered to a pole like some kind of animal, but the blue-haired bloodsucker paid no mind to his soft snarls, instead walking over to where a rather large canteen for drinking water lay on the makeshift table, snatching it up. Ichigo deduced then that the tent he was in was Grimmjow's.

"I'm going to feed-"

"Don't you mean going to kill some innocent, defenseless person for your meal?" The orangette's tone was bitter and held all of the disdain he had for Grimmjow and his kind, leeches posing as humans. "What'll it be this time, a woman? A child?"

The next second, the blunette's hand was pulling at a handful of Ichigo's sunset hair, pulling his head back so that he was forced to look right into the blazing sapphire eyes.

"I reckon you shouldn't speak of things you know nothing about," Grimmjow said in his aristocratic, Southern drawl. "But then again, I wouldn't expect anything less from your kind."

"Fuck you," Ichigo said, venom practically spitting from between his lips.

"My apologies, but I wouldn't let my good bits near a mangy little mutt like you." The vampire smirked, obviously satisfied with himself when the slighter male's eyes burned a deep sable with loathing and rage.

"You wish I meant it that way." Ichigo gathered up some of his last reserves of inhuman strength and jerked out of Grimmjow's hold, though this didn't seem to bother the other as his aura of arrogance only increased, gaze glimmering with bemusement.

"Don't dare to flatter yourself, pup. I know inside that little orange head of yours you're begging for it, for me to throw you down on my cot right over there and take you," the bloodsucker said as if he really _did _know. "But you won't admit to it simply because I'm part of an evolved species that looks down on animals like your kind."

"You bastard! I'll-"

"You'll what? Kill me with that deadly stare?" Grimmjow gave a barking laugh. "Ha! You're even more powerless with the silver around your neck, you can't do a goddamn thing."

Ichigo breathed heavily through his nose, but saying nothing as standing for so long in his weakened state had taken its toll and he felt somewhat faint and lightheaded. He swayed to the side and despite trying to hide it as best he could, the vampire noticed and laughed again.

"Just wait here while I go feed, and if you're a good little pup I'll scratch you behind the ears when I come back."

And with that, Grimmjow was gone in a burst of chilled night air, leaving the orangette alone in the tent.

Ichigo let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, sliding down to sit Indian style on the ground. It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open as the silver took full effect and made him weaker than a newborn and the freezing cold fingers of the early winter wind sank into his very bones.

He leaned his forehead against the wooden pole, letting his eyelids flutter closed. All he saw in the resulting darkness was the massacre of his kin, the entire Union army, everyone he ever knew and loved, what was sure to happen if he didn't find a way to escape, to stop what the vampire leader, Lord Aizen, was planning.

But he knew that it wasn't possible, at least all on his own.

He needed help.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I hope you liked this first part **wolfsparadise**. I sincerely apologize for getting this out later than promised, you've been so good to me, reviewing and favoriting my stories. I remember the first time I got a review from you on "All I Want", I actually squealed because I am such an avid fan of "Getting Away With Murder." _And _this is like one of the best ideas for a story ever. This one's for you!

This most likely will have three parts to it. Perhaps more. It depends on how much self-discipline I have. Next part will contain the rest of Ichigo's captivity as he's held by the vampires, what they have planned, and how his and Grimmjow's relationship grows from enemies to something more. ; )

**On the Historical Accuracy**: I know not everything is accurate. I had to change several things in order for the story to make sense. I know that the Confederate army didn't have divisions, but rather the Union did. However, let's just pretend they made an exception for "the Night Division" and that they were still doing well enough to be stationed in Virginia at the end of 1864. I also let some of my inner feminist take over for a moment and wrote that female vampires and werewolves fought too. And I tried to give Grimmjow a bit of an American Southern accent, so hopefully that worked out somewhat.

**Tiana Misoro and TokugawaSmile**, don't think I've forgotten I promised you two your requests! I won't go back on my word, I swear. You'll get your Indecent Proposal GrimmIchiShiro and Naruto GrimmIchi if it's that last thing I do! :D


	10. GrimmIchi Borderlines Part II

_This is currently in the process of being beta'ed. I wanted to get this out as soon as possible since it's been a while..._

**Summary**: The colors of their uniforms aren't the only thing that separate Grimmjow and Ichigo. The fact that they are inherent enemies, bred to hate each other, does as well. North and South, vampire and werewolf, they were never meant to be. And yet, they were.

**Warnings**: Historical AU (American Civil War), yaoi, lemon, language, violence. **Also**, Federal = North and Confederate = South. Will be three chapters.

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><p><strong>Borderlines Part II<strong>

_A Grimmjow/Ichigo AU short story_

Written for **wolf's paradise**

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><p><strong>Night Division Camp<strong>

**Timberlake, Virginia**

**November 17th, 1864**

**Twenty three days until next Full Moon**

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><p>Ichigo learned almost immediately that First Lieutenant Grimmjow Jaegerjaques was not exactly what he seemed. After two nights spent tethered to the ground in the lieutenant's tent without food or drink, the vampire finally decided to feed his prisoner, returning just before sunrise with a slab of undercooked meat on a tin plate and a canteen of water.<p>

Ichigo blinked at the offering for a few seconds before pride overcame his hunger and thirst. His inhuman stamina would keep him alive for weeks without either though it would be a miserable, slow death. Pressing his lips together in a thin line, he glared up at Grimmjow, every last bit of his hatred burning in those honey brown orbs.

"So you wanna starve, then?" the vampire said, sneering and tossing the items onto the ground beside the orange-haired werewolf. "Fine with me, I could give a damn."

Ichigo clenched his fists so hard his fingernails bit into the flesh of his palms deep enough to hurt but stopping short of drawing blood. Bleeding, no matter how little, in the middle of a camp infested with bloodsuckers wouldn't turn out well.

"I'll kill myself before I let you filthy neckbiters use anything of mine to destroy my kin," he swore, voice as strong as he could make it whilst under the silver collar's influence.

He wasn't bluffing. Ichigo wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice his life in order to save countless others. All he would have to do was get his hands on one of the musket rifles in the camp that was loaded with silver bullets.

Grimmjow wasn't fazed by the other's declaration, clasping his hands behind his head before collapsing onto his cot.

"That'll be rather hard to accomplish when you can barely move, don't ya reckon?" he said before reaching over with one hand to a rectangular wooden box that rested on the makeshift table. Flipping the lid open, he retrieved a single cigar, clearly the expensive brand only plantation owners and politicians smoked. Then the blunette began to use a short knife he pulled from his jacket pocket to cut into the packing. Once he was done with... whatever he was doing (Ichigo was naive to the ways of cigar smoking), Grimmjow reached for a lighter that the orangette could see with his keen eyes was engraved with the vampire's initials. After the end of the cigar was lit, Grimmjow took a deep pull off of the thing, exhaling smoke through his nose. "I suggest you enjoy your last days. Hell knows our kind don't get a one way ticket to the pearly gates."

"_Our _kind? Are you trying to imply we're anything alike?" Ichigo snorted in derision, pulling his knees up to his chin and resting his arms atop them. He suppressed a shiver, his uniform not nearly enough to keep out the bitter cold.

"Yeah, yeah, you mutts think you're morally superior to us 'cause you don't have to feed off humans, but when it comes down to it we're the same. We were human once and now we're not. Now we're damned, cursed, etcetera etcetera." Grimmjow chuckled darkly and this time exhaled the gray vapor through his mouth, making smoke rings that drifted up and dissipated into thin air.

Ichigo opened his mouth to retort but found he had nothing to say to that at all.

In a way... the vampire had a point. They were complete opposites in every way, even down to their opposing hair colors, but _perhaps _they were the sort of the same. They were the monsters in a storybook, the creatures of the night, the stuff of nightmares. Though under the sun Ichigo could blend in with normal humans, under the full moon he'd be condemned as unnatural, a bloodthirsty beast, without a second thought.

But were they damned? If there was an afterlife for their kind, would the heavenly deity automatically banish them below to the fiery pits? Or were they forbidden from the otherworld, their demise the beginning of an eternity of nothingness?

It wasn't fair. Ichigo hadn't chosen this life. He'd only been seventeen, a child, when he was attacked by what he believed to be massive wolf on a night the moon was full. A bite mark that wouldn't fade and strange urges for raw meat had led to his being cast out by his own family, god-fearing people who wanted nothing to do with him. It was sheer blind luck that during his first transformation Ichigo a kindred soul has sensed and then found him.

That's how he'd met Kisuke Urahara, his mentor and the leader of the pack the orangette now considered his kin. His kin that were in mortal danger should that 'Lord Aizen' follow through with his repulsive plan.

"You look pathetic like that, like a dog with its tail between its legs.'" Grimmjow said, interrupting Ichigo's thoughts with a bark of laughter, lips parting to reveal dagger-like ivory fangs. "Surely the big, bad wolf ain't scared?"

"I'm not worried about myself, idiot. But you've obviously never cared about anyone other than yourself so I wouldn't expect you to understand," Ichigo spat, raising a hand to pull at the collar that felt as if it was gradually tightening around his throat.

"There you go again, talking 'bout shit you know nothing about. You're good at that," Grimmjow said, hazy smoke curling around his face to make his otherworldly blue eyes appear even more ethereal.

"Well you-"

"Don't care," the blue-haired lieutenant cut the other off, discarding the only half-smoked cigar by throwing it onto the ground and crushing it with a booted foot that hung over the edge of his cot before rolling onto his side away from Ichigo.

The orangette took it as an obvious sign that Grimmjow was turning in for the day, the sun most likely close to rising. It was too bad that the heavenly orb of fire didn't burn bloodsuckers to a crisp like the legends said, instead only weakening them in an effect similar to what silver did to werewolves.

Ichigo wanted badly to be awake for when the sun rose, missing its winter-dimmed warmth since he'd somehow slept the whole day before, but he felt his eyelids grow heavy and gave into the fatigue overwhelming him, lying on his side on the cold ground. He needed to be awake and alert when the vampires were, after all.

"Eat and I'll take you outside tomorrow," Grimmjow's voice sounded suddenly and the orange-haired werewolf felt his eyes snap open in surprise and then narrow in suspicion. Why was the other so intent on him eating the food? Was it poisoned?

Curious, Ichigo reached out and brought the tin plate with the undercooked slab of beef and sniffed it. With his sensitive sense of smell he could easily detect if anything was off about the meat but, surprisingly, it was perfectly fine.

Deciding to take the risk and that, if Grimmjow was being truthful, going outside would be beneficial in helping him plan an escape, Ichigo tore into the meat, satiating the gnawing hunger that'd been plaguing him for the entire night and downed the water in the canteen, relieving his parched throat. After he was finished Grimmjow was statue still on his cot, deep in a vampiric, comatose like sleep.

And he was not the only one for the entire camp was deathly silent, not even the softest of sounds to be heard. It disturbed Ichigo; silence made him uneasy and though he was tired to the bone sleep didn't come easily that morning.

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><p><strong>November 18th, 1864<strong>

**Twenty two days until next Full Moon**

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><p>It turned out that Lieutenant Jaegerjaques was a man (vampire, whatever) of his word.<p>

Early that evening, traces of the sunset still visible on the horizon, Grimmjow woke the werewolf with a nudge of his boot and a "Get the fuck up already." Ichigo was confused for a few moments, disoriented and unaware of where he was until reality came crashing down making him scowl the pair of leather boots in front of his face.

"Do you want to go outside to play or what, mutt? I have shit to do," Grimmjow said impatiently, glaring down at the orangette.

Ichigo bit his tongue and pushed himself off of the ground, noting he was weaker than ever.. He felt unsteady on his feet but attempted to conceal the effects of the cursed metal as best he could, looking up into the blazing sapphire eyes of his warden defiantly.

"Lead the way," he said.

Grimmjow grinned in that vicious way of his before reaching down to grasp the chain connecting Ichigo's collar to the pole staked into the ground. Forgoing opening the lock with a key the vampire snapped a link of solid metal with his bare hands like it was nothing but a dry twig.

Ichigo couldn't stop the animalistic growl that ripped from his throat when Grimmjow tugged on the leash to his collar mockingly, nearly making the werewolf stumble as they walked through the tent flap and out to the battle camp bustling with activity despite the early hour.

"I only have one rule for you while we're out here; keep your trap closed. If you can manage that," Grimmjow said a few steps ahead of the werewolf. "If someone talks to you, ignore 'em."

"And what if I do speak to one of the other leeches?" Ichigo asked, bold words for a prisoner of war.

Grimmjow halted, looking over his shoulder, a smirk on his deceptively handsome face. His luminous cobalt eyes were glimmering with something that had a shudder running up the Union soldier's spine.

"The shit I'd get from Aizen if I killed you wouldn't be worth it, but trust me, pup, I have other ways of _punishing _you."

The words wouldn't have meant anything to Ichigo if it hadn't been for the way the blue-haired bloodsucker had said 'punishing', his rough velvet voice dark and husky and hinting at things Ichigo's mind could only imagine. Its effect on the orangette was obvious, jaw dropping as he couldn't think of anything to respond with.

Grimmjow gave a bark of laughter, evidently pleased to have rendered his prisoner speechless. He faced forward and began walking again, pulling Ichigo along with him before he spoke again.

"It's for your own good. You're a wolf among a hundred vampires and you can't watch your mouth like a good boy so keep it shut, savvy?"

Ichigo exercised his limited amount of tolerance and merely glared at the back of the lieutenant's sky blue head, hoping it would somehow explode if he did it long enough. However, that soon grew dull and he took the opportunity as they walked through the line of identical canvas tents to survey the camp more thoroughly.

There seemed to be nothing unusual about it aside from the female vampires clustered together, not cooking or hanging laundry but rather polishing and assembling musket rifles with practiced ease. Wearing Confederate mens' uniforms, no less. He imagined that Urahara's aubergine-haired wife, a kind of maternal figure to Ichigo, would've highly approved.

His heart clenched, stomach twisting and throat constricting as he thought of the couple and the rest of his kin, doomed because he hadn't been strong enough to fight off a single enemy. However, his guilty despondence was soon forgotten as something odd caught his eye.

Beside the women vampires was a group of children, but they weren't playing ring around the rosy or hide and seek. Instead, clear as day due to his enhanced vision, they were holding standard issue hunting knives in their small hands, sharpening the lethal blades with jagged pieces of flint.

At first, Ichigo was bewildered by the sight. What were children, all who appeared under the age of thirteen, doing in a battle camp?

Then he remembered a tale he'd heard long ago, one he and fellow wolves had thought to be nothing but legend. A tale of child bloodsuckers. Changed before they reached puberty, they were endowed with vampiric strength and speed, thirsting for human blood but forever frozen in a juvenile mental and physical state, never able to grow up.

Ichigo had never even imagined the stories of vampire children to be true but there they were, as real as could be.

"Those stupid bitches." Grimmjow's wrathful words distracted the werewolf, the latter's eyes cornering to where his warden's vexed, sapphire gaze was set on the group of children. It was plain he'd seen something he really didn't like. "Come on," he said, jerking on the chain and subsequently Ichigo forward. In his weakened state, the orangette struggled to keep up with the vampire's swift strides.

All of the females' expressions brightened when they spotted the lieutenant approaching them, winsome smiles crossing their faces as a few reached up to smooth their simple coiffures. They gave him a few furtive glances, unnerved by a werewolf in such close proximity. Ichigo arched a brow in confusion and it was only when he and his captor stopped in front of the group of women that he realized why they were acting so oddly.

Apparently Grimmjow was popular with the fairer sex, though Ichigo couldn't for all the world figure out why anyone would want to be intimate with such a sadistic, conceited bastard.

Well, perhaps the blunette was attractive, if you liked that sort of thing.

"Hello Lieutenant," a vampire with hair the color of corn silk and an ample bosom outlined by her masculine garb drawled in that typical Southern Belle way. "Lovely night, isn't it?"

"Yes, just lovely," another one said.

"Much lovelier now," a female vampire tittered, giggling inanely at her little innuendo.

"Cut the bullshit," Grimmjow said, jaw clenched in obvious vexation. Or at least it was obvious to Ichigo because the women didn't even bat an eyelash, well except for the ones who were doing so in a coquettish manner. Apparently they were used to the blunette's crass tendencies. "I ordered you all to send the brats further south to New Orleans with the party that was passing through last night. Why the fuck are they still here?"

"Oh Lieutenant, don't be angry with us," the first vampire said, pouting simperingly. However. before she could speak again, a youthful voice piped to their right.

"But we wanna stay!"

The speaker was a young girl, nine or ten years old, dressed in a gingham dress with sea-foam colored waves of hair and a bright pink scar over the bridge of her nose, no doubt a recent injury and most likely from a bullet grazing the skin there. She ran over to where Ichigo and Grimmjow were standing, clasping her hands underneath her chin.

"Don't make us go! We promise we'll do all the chores Lord Aizen gave us and he _said _he needed us here," she pleaded, her mossy gray eyes larger than saucers. She also seemed the only child willing to speak to the lieutenant, the rest observing silently with rounded eyes.

Dying of curiosity to see the sadistic vampire handled being addressed like such by a little girl, Ichigo trained his gaze onto the blunette's face. However, another shock awaited him when he saw Grimmjow frowning down at the child, brilliant blue orbs forlorn under furrowed brows.

"Aizen said that?" he asked of the girl, voice still rough but tone milder than Ichigo had ever heard it. He also noticed that Grimmjow left out the honorific 'Lord.'

"Yes, he did! He said it was our... our duty to help our family," she said, the naivete in her gleeful expression making the orangette despise the leader of the vampires that much more and then her innocent stare traveled to Ichigo. An excited squeal burst from her lips before she started towards him.

But when she was only a few feet away, one of the female vampires reached out and caught the little girl's arm, jerking her backwards.

"Stupid girl, do you want to be that beast's breakfast?" the woman said harshly, the light in the child's eyes dimming she looked at the ground in shame. "I should give you a switching for making a spectacle of yourself in front of the Lieutenant. Now apologize."

"Stop yer yammering," Grimmjow said, causing the woman's jaw drop and the girl to peer up between her tousled bangs. "She's just a kid for Christ's sake."

Ichigo frowned, wondering why the blue-haired lieutenant was defending the little girl's actions, after which the woman vampire looked properly chastised and let go of the child's arm.

Whilst the other children watched rapturously, the sea-foam haired girl stepped forward, hesitantly this time. Her smile, however, was beaming, two delicately pointed incisors peeking through her lips. Ichigo couldn't comprehend how the innocent child in front of him was of the same breed as the overgrown parasites whose very existence he cursed.

"I just wanted to see if he was really a... _werewolf_," she said, saying the last word like it was a delightful secret instead of a curse, surely the only vampire in existence to do so. She looked over to Ichigo, not one ounce of repulsion or fear to be seen in her expression. "

"Nelliel, that's enough pestering the lieutenant," one of the women said. "Go back to the others now."

"All right," Nelliel said, visibly deflating at the sudden end of her break from her dull, laborious chores. But then she looked up to Grimmjow with a bashful grin. "Thank you for letting us stay. Oh, and I like your hair, it's so pretty!"

The girl then turned and skipped back to the group of children, leaving a displeased blue-haired vampire and a werewolf biting his lip to stifle a bubble of laughter from a child referring to anything of Grimmjow's as 'pretty' though a few peals slipped out.

"Shut up," Grimmjow snapped in Ichigo's direction but only after a few moments did the latter stop laughing completely.

Obviously dissatisfied without the officer's attention and eyes on her, one woman dared to walk right up to Grimmjow. The top three buttons on her gray jacket were unbuttoned and her lips were upturned in an attempted coy smile. "You're so good with the children, Lieutenant," she said in a husky voice.

"Yes, _so _good," another woman vampire said, not about to let the first steal the object of their affection away.

"They say you can tell how a man would treat his woman by how he treats children," the female with the corn silk hair sighed wistfully, making doe eyes at the blue-haired officer. "But I would hope you wouldn't be so gentle with me, Lieutenant Jaegerjaques."

A few women giggled at that while others blushed and averted their eyes. Ichigo could feel his nose wrinkle in distaste, the display making him a tad nauseated and was somewhat pleased when Grimmjow roughly pushed away the woman who appeared to be trying to press her bosom to his chest.

"Get back to work," he spat and then spun on his heel with apparent distaste for the female vampires and their flirtatious sentiments. The group collectively whined in disappointment.

"Come visit us again soon, Lieutenant Jaegerjaques!" one called after the two whilst they walked away.

Their behavior made absolutely no sense to Ichigo who couldn't believe they would continue flirting when Grimmjow couldn't have made his disinterest anymore obvious. Then again, the fact that they would _want _the lieutenant in a romantic or carnal fashion was proof of either sheer stupidity or pure insanity.

But... why would Grimmjow so readily tease him, a man, a werewolf, an _enemy_, with sexual innuendos and then completely reject an entire group of women's advances?

The one reason Ichigo could think of was the same he himself would never be enticed by feminine wiles; he'd always only been attracted to men. Despite the persuasion being utterly taboo amongst humans it wasn't uncommon in his pack so perhaps it was the same for vampires. After all, neither of the two species adhered to the human world's mores and laws.

Ichigo was burning with curiosity, somehow finding the notion of Grimmjow being like him... intriguing, but he kept to his silence, not ready to return to the cold solitude of the tent.

That night passed without incident as the First Lieutenant made his rounds around the division's camp, not including the various taunts and violent gestures the much rowdier male bloodsuckers whose hatred for wolves caused Ichigo to actually appreciate Grimmjow's constant presence a little. They seemed too afraid of the blunette to try anything physical while he was there.

And with just cause considering the times Ichigo witnessed Grimmjow dissatisfied with his subordinates' performance. His idea of disciplining slackers included shooting at them and laughing maniacally as they tried to dodge the non-lethal but still harmful bullets.

The next few nights were spent similarly, Ichigo reluctantly obeying the rule he stay silent no matter how hard it was to not reply to some of the vulgarities spewed at him from the inhuman Confederate soldiers. For the werewolf, the only somewhat pleasant part was when they briefly stopped to check on the child vampires despite the adult females fawning over Grimmjow shamelessly. Nelliel, the girl from the first night the orangette was allowed outside, surprised him by calling out a "Hello, Mr. Wolf!" every time. She was the singular occupant that didn't outright despise him.

Strangely he never saw the vampires' leader, Lord Aizen, or any of the others that had been in his luxurious tent the night of his capture. It seemed that Grimmjow was in charge of running the ranks of inhuman soldiers while those ten bloodsuckers were nowhere to be seen, perhaps still in that same tent lazing about as everyone else did the work.

Nevertheless, he never forgot his need to escape. Ichigo constantly looked for ways he could break out the camp, all of which consisted freeing his collared chain of the indestructible stake in the ground or Grimmjow's grasp. To be honest, he thought he had more of a shot with the first than getting by the vampire.

With every passing hour the dread in Ichigo's heart grew to the point where he sometimes would think of giving up until Grimmjow would say something aggravating, reminding him of his conviction to save his kin, his family.

However, a week into his imprisonment it became even more important that he somehow stop Lord Aizen's plans.

* * *

><p><strong>November 22nd, 1864<strong>

**Eighteen days until next Full Moon**

* * *

><p>"You can't just leave me here!"<p>

There was good reason for which Ichigo broke his promise to be silent outside the tent and fortunately Grimmjow didn't appear to care that he'd done so, instead vexed that his prisoner was protesting something at all.

"Sorry but you really don't have a say in it," the blunette said, unimpressed by Ichigo's declaration. "You have to stay out here; no dogs allowed."

"Could you stop with the 'dog' and 'mutt' jokes already? They got old a long time ago." Scowling furiously, the orangette crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine, leave me here but don't be surprised when you come back to see I've been maimed by leeches."

"I'll stop with the 'mutt' jokes when you stop calling everyone 'leech' and 'bloodsucker', yeah?" Grimmjow said, arching a brow. "And don't be such a scared little bitch; no one's going to risk getting in deep shit with Aizen just to kill _you_."

"How do you know I won't make a run for it?" Ichigo asked, deciding to ignore the other's barb for he was used to it by now.

"Even you're not stupid enough to try and escape; you ten steps," Grimmjow scoffed. "I don't even know why I'm arguing this with you. Shut up and stay in this exact spot until I get back."

"Bastard," Ichigo spat, unable to figure that out either.

"You better believe it," Grimmjow said with an arrogant smirk before reaching his hand out palm facing the ground and extending his fingers so that the end of the chain fell to the ground. An involuntary thrill went through the orangette's body at the realization that for the first time in an entire week he wasn't bound to anything, free... kind of.

With that the vampire disappeared through the canvas flap of the massive tent where Ichigo had met Lord Aizen, the mere memory of the brunette male lounging on those pillows and that frighteningly mild tone he spoke in making the werewolf's skin crawl. He was the one Grimmjow had told Ichigo he was going to meet with and Ichigo anxiously wondered if the meeting had anything to do with his own role in Aizen's plan.

Before he thought better of it, the orange-haired captive sidled close to the tent's opening. He didn't even have to strain to hear voices with his enhanced hearing. The current voice Ichigo immediately recognized as Aizen's, its lifeless tone all too memorable.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, my dear lieutenant. I do so miss you whilst I am confined to my tent," he was saying and it was easy to picture the ruler cock his head to the side, the smallest of smiles on his plain face. "I understand you have been taking good care of my children in my absence."

"I just keep them in line, Lord Aizen," Grimmjow said, sounding uncharacteristically temperate.

"Nonsense, Grimmjow. Leadership requires one to be born with the skill to guide those beneath them," Aizen said and there was the sound of what Ichigo determined to be rustling paper. "Though I do find your methods a bit unorthodox. It says here you've taken to using disobedient soldiers as target practice?"

"Yes."

The simple answer amused the eavesdropping werewolf, his lips twitching in the beginnings of a smile. Grimmjow must have been the sole person in the world who'd respond to that like it was perfectly normal.

"I see," Aizen said. "Well, the ends justify the means, isn't that right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I'm so glad you understand, Grimmjow. Not everyone grasps the concept that sometimes you must sacrifice a little for the greater good," Aizen said softly and continued on without waiting for a response. "I read in your reports your footnote about sending the young ones to New Orleans and away from battle ground."

A burst of laughter that didn't come from either Grimmjow or Aizen startled Ichigo, the cackling one of amusement at another's expense.

"Don't tell me that _Sexta_, killer of thousands, _cares_ about those little brats! Have you gone soft on us, Grimmjow?" the one who laughed said in a mocking tone.

"You're even denser than I thought if you think that, Nnoitra, " Grimmjow said roughly. "I want them out of here 'cause they're more trouble then they're worth. They can't fight for shit."

"That is quite enough from the both of you. We are the eleven eldest amongst our race, the ones the rest look to for guidance, and most importantly, we are a family. You are my children and I can't bear to see you two fight, especially in my condition," Aizen said sadly but no doubt his expression would still be as moderate as ever.

Evidently his word was law as neither of the two said a word but Ichigo's curiosity was piqued by the use of 'condition.' Did the vampire leader mean he was ill? But immortals couldn't become sick, they were immune to all diseases, so what could he be referring to?

"However, returning to the issue of the youngest of our ranks, I will have to deny your request they be sent away, Grimmjow. Even they have an important role in our strategy to turn this war in our favor."

A few seconds of silence.

"Understood, Lord Aizen," the blue-haired lieutenant said so very slightly curt, a nuance Ichigo was only able to pick up due to close quarters with Grimmjow for seven nights now.

More sounds of rustling paper and what seemed like liquid pouring into a glass and then the ruling vampire started to drone on again.

"I knew you would, Grimmjow. You've always been able to make the needed immolation so that many of our kind could prosper."

Even outside the tent, Ichigo could feel the tension from whatever Aizen was referring to.

"Ah, I almost forgot- we haven't even discussed the most important matter at hand," the brunette exclaimed as much as his annoyingly level composure allowed. "How is your charge, the orange-haired wolf?"

"Fine," Grimmjow said and for some reason his answer bothered Ichigo. Surely the lieutenant had more to say on all that had happened the past week and 'fine' was not exactly how Ichigo would describe how he felt that moment.

"Good, good. Has he been eating? I hope you haven't been cruel to him," Aizen said. There was a pause before Grimmjow answered and the orangette wondered why the brunette pretended to care about his well-being.

"He eats well enough."

"You've been feeding him undercooked meat his kind have a taste for?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, I'll have to see if we can't break him of that habit. I find the practice of eating raw meat like an animal unsavory," Aizen said, sighing.

At first Ichigo mentally ranted it was utterly hypocritical for someone who drank human blood, murdering the unwilling donor in the process, could criticize another for eating raw meat but then he realized Aizen's plan to change his eating habits didn't make any sense.

"You sound as if you're planning on having him around longer than just until the Full Moon," Grimmjow said, voicing Ichigo's concern.

"Ah Grimmjow, my son, you've missed so much since you filled my place leading our ranks," Aizen said, every bit of sympathy interweaved in his words glaringly fake. "I suppose I shall have to fill you in on the change in plans regarding our guest."

"That would be appreciated... Lord Aizen," Grimmjow said, adding the honorific as an afterthought. He didn't sound pleased he was the only one of 'the eleven eldest' who didn't know about this change.

Ichigo leaned against one of the poles supporting the large tent, feeling faint even as his heart started to beat rapidly, fluttering about in his chest.

What they'd originally planned to do to him had been awful enough so what could they have possibly substituted? Surely it could be no worse.

"You remember of course when your brother Ulquiorra risked his life to travel north to Boston just a few days ago," Aizen said and Ichigo's overly active heart stopped completely.

Boston was where his entire kin was currently settled, save for he and several others who'd enlisted to serve as regular infantrymen until the time was right for them all to fight fairly against the bloodsuckers.

"The werewolves were long gone by the time he arrived where they had been living. They must have somehow known he was going to pay them a visit but as it turns out, that worked in our favor, isn't that so Ulquiorra?"

Ichigo held his breath too afraid to feel relief only to hear devastating news.

"Yes," a monotonous voice answered. "One of them was left behind accidentally, a very old one who was well versed in ancient rituals. I was able to coerce the wolf into giving me the information Lord Aizen desired."

The orangette felt his hands clench into fists and his teeth ground together audibly, the inner wolf in him compelling him to rip the vampire who so casually spoke of how he'd tortured one of Ichigo's own. In a cruel ironic twist it was the silver collar that suppressed that urge, his weakness so palpable he was able to comprehend that desire's impossibility.

"Please share with Grimmjow what it that you learned, Ulquiorra," Aizen suggested.

"It would seem that if a vampire were to drink the blood of a transformed werewolf on the Full Moon they would only strengthen themselves a minuscule amount compared to the potential increase in power from another, nearly unknown ritual. Apparently not even most of their race were told of it in an effort the knowledge would eventually be lost." The one known as Ulquiorra did not sound like he ever break out of his inanimate manner despite speaking of something so clandestine.

Ichigo was frozen, unaware of the bitter winter wind ripping through his hair and the layers of his navy uniform. He waited to hear what this ritual was in which the vampires now intended to force him to participate in as his blood stopped cold and only dread coursed through his veins.

"Yeah, and what is it?" Grimmjow said, a hint of interest where there was usually irreverence.

"Patience, Grimmjow," Aizen chastised. "This information Ulquiorra retrieved for us will forever alter our existence as we know it; it will be the beginning of a new era. I will not the only one that stands to benefit, you do as well, all eleven of us do. However, I feel I must warn you that sacrifices will have to be made in order for us to elevate to our deserved status though this time it shouldn't be as hard on you. There won't be any... personal involvement on your part."

"People will have to die. That's what you're getting at, isn't it?" It was difficult to decipher what Grimmjow was thinking, he now sounded just as lifeless as Ulquiorra.

"Don't think of it that way. I made a grave mistake and now I am correcting it as we move forward and better ourselves."

"What mistake would that be?"

Aizen sighed as if he was suffering greatly but a child could sense his vile callousness. He cared for no one but himself. Suddenly Ichigo regretted for having said the same thing to the blue-haired lieutenant a few days prior.

"You've heard this all before, but in the beginning when I lived alone as the first of our race I was plagued with loneliness. I wanted the company of someone like myself and started sharing with mortals the gift of eternal life until I had the ten of you as my children. Yet I was not satisfied and I admit I became greedy, gifting more and more mortals until now, thousands of years later, we've grown to countless numbers. That was my mistake, not stopping after ten, choosing undeserving humans to tarnish the purity of our gift and though I try as hard as possible I can no longer make sure they behave themselves. Soon I, with your help, will correct that mistake."

Ichigo felt sick as the first vampire implied in his self-indulgent monologue that he would wipe out the entirety of the vampire race save for the eleven gathered there.

"The ends justify the means," Grimmjow repeated Aizen's earlier words.

While the werewolf had never considered, never even come close, to thinking of the blue-haired lieutenant as anything near compassionate he still found it unnerving that he would so willingly approve of a mass murder of colossal proportions.

"You never were one to disappoint, Grimmjow. I knew you would understand," Aizen said.

"So what does the ritual with the mutt have to do with this?"

"Ah yes, that I saved for last as the ritual has a few... notable parts involved that shocked a few of your brothers when they first heard."

"Tch, it's fucking flat out bizarre," a voice that possibly belonged to the one named Nnoitra muttered under his breath but Ichigo heard it loud and clear, panic rising up within him.

"Try your best to keep in mind the benefits, _quinto," _Aizen said, evidently having heard the comment as well, and then continued on. "The unsung ritual we have only just learned of will be a great deal more challenging than what we originally planned as it involves the wolf transferring power willingly."

"Then we'd be better off forgetting the whole thing. The mutt's as stubborn as a mule," Grimmjow said, chuckling in a way Ichigo would've described as almost fond if he didn't know any better. Which he did.

The orangette was somewhat relieved to hear that the only way the vampires would get what they wanted was if he gave it out of his own free will. A thousand years of agonizing torture wouldn't convince him.

"Yes, I gathered that when you brought him before me last week but that is exactly why we'll succeed," Aizen said cryptically. "He is an open book, his personality I've seen countless times before and just from those few minutes he stood in my presence I was able to decipher what exactly makes him tick. That orange-haired wolf is as moral as they come, doubtlessly full of reckless courage and a desire to protect others. He is the type readily won over with a bit of kindness and with a mind ripe to believe in the good in people, generous to a flaw. He lives to give without taking."

When it fell silent, Ichigo was overwhelmed with a hybrid of emotions, a mixture of disbelief and burning outrage and confusion. All of what Aizen had said about him had been the undeniable truth and the werewolf felt violated, exposed, like the filthy parasite had looked uninvited into his mind. He sank to his knees, still close enough to the tent flap to hear the ongoing conversation.

"You plan on manipulating him into giving you what you want," Grimmjow said without even a trace of emotion.

"That is such a crass way of putting it, and it would be an understatement anyway. You see, my lieutenant, the ritual is deceptively simple; the werewolf only has to be in his transformed state during a full moon and mentally will a portion of the astronomical amount of power they possess to be ceded to a vampire. The part requiring a bit of effort on my behalf is in order for the connection between the werewolf and vampire to be strong enough to conduct that power is the wolf must love his counterpart."

Ichigo waited what felt like hours for the part where Aizen declared he was kidding, that it had only been a joke, but it never came.

"It is clear you're having difficulty believing me, Grimmjow, but I assure you that is indeed what's necessary for our family to gain enough power to take our rightful place above all. This is not a matter of rejuvenating myself, this is about no longer hiding our existence from the mortals and living in the shadows. With that wolf we will finally live an eternity as gods, starting when we extinguish both of this war's militia as I've grown bored here and better things await us."

Aforementioned wolf was completely numb as he listened to the evil intent so very faintly heard in the brunette vampire's mild voice. The one thing Ichigo kept repeating in his mind was 'no.' No, none of that would ever happen because he wouldn't hold anything but hatred for Aizen as long as he was breathing. No, no, no.

"And all you have to do is get him to... 'love' you?" Grimmjow, whether intentional or not, sounded unimpressed as if he had more important things to be doing at the moment and Aizen was precisely the type that kind of attitude would frustrate terribly. Not that he would ever show it.

"No, I will not have the wolf fall in love. When I am done with him, he will worship the ground we all walk on. He'll be begging us to let him perform the ritual," the brunette said, laughing softly. "In the end when he's transferred all of his power we will only have to tell him it would please us if he took his own life and he won't hesitate for even a second, though I believe having a family pet would be nice."

Evidently this amused several inside the tent, their laughter booming in Ichigo's ears until finally he covered them with his hands, screwing his eyelids together. He didn't want to simply consider the possibility of it happening, but... what if it did? What if Aizen really was a master at manipulating people and messed with Ichigo's mind enough that eventually he'd be pitifully pining at their feet?

A booted foot none too gently nudging his shin was his call back to reality a few minutes later, the involuntary frightening what-if thoughts dissipating as he opened his eyes and lowered his hands. Towering over him Grimmjow's expression was blank as the blunette reached down to grasp Ichigo's upper arm and pull him to his feet.

Somehow the orangette knew that the other was aware he'd eavesdropped and not a word was spoken as they headed for their shared tent, all of the vampiric soldiers already inside as the sun was minutes away from rising.

Ichigo didn't notice until they entered Grimmjow's personal tent that the lieutenant wasn't gripping the end of his chain nor did he make to attach it to the stake. Nevertheless, out of habit Ichigo sat down in his usual spot, drawing his knees to his chin to conserve warmth in the bitter cold.

He watched silently as Grimmjow stood absolutely still in front of his cot, deep frown marring his handsome features. For a few minutes he didn't move, didn't make a sound, and Ichigo was on the verge of asking if he was all right (only to find out the reason why Grimmjow was acting so strangely, not because he really _cared_) when suddenly the vampire smashed the cot in a vicious stomp, wood breaking with loud cracks.

Ichigo started at the abrupt violent action, instinctively falling back onto his hands as his widened eyes stared unblinkingly at the now obviously infuriated Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. The male's lips curled into a soundless snarl and baring his porcelain lethally sharp fangs, nostrils flaring, brows drawn together over orbs of tempestuous blue, the storm raging within their depths leaving Ichigo breathless.

As if he all of a sudden remembered the other was there with him, Grimmjow's head snapped up to pin Ichigo with that piercing, crackling lightning stare.

"Whatever you do, don't say a fucking word about what you heard tonight. Got it?"

The werewolf didn't respond but the vampire hadn't expected him to, lowering himself to the ground beside the wreckage of what used to be his cot. Ichigo observed as Grimmjow turned away onto his side like he always did before falling into an unnaturally deep sleep.

However a few seconds later and he sat straight up, quickly ripping off his uniform jacket and shirt in rapid, vicious motions and leaving his torso completely bare. Sneering cruelly down at the fabric in his hands, he tore the officer's badge right off, throwing it across the tent before bundling the ruined pile of gray and white material under his head to use as a pillow.

When the sun rose, Grimmjow had fallen prey to the death-like sleep and Ichigo was in the same exact position, thoughts racing through his head too fast to entertain the idea of rest.

Escaping to him now seemed like a pipe dream and a wave of hopelessness overwhelmed him. He couldn't decide if he was giving up or simply ceasing to care but the weight of his own desolation kept him awake for hours before exhaustion pulled him under.

* * *

><p><strong>November 25th, 1864<strong>

**Fifteen Days until next Full Moon**

* * *

><p>Ichigo didn't know the exact time or how many hours had passed since Grimmjow had left him to make his rounds but every minute was like a lifetime, an immortal one. There was nothing for him to do in the tent but stare into space, his mind free to torture him by continuously dwelling on the grim situation- not just grim for him either, but a vast amount of other people as well. Should Aizen follow through on his 'correction' all of the vampires in this camp would be murdered mercilessly and for the first time in his life Ichigo felt bad for the parasites, unknowingly serving someone plotting their demise.<p>

The evening after he'd overheard that particular conversation he'd woken to find the tent empty, Grimmjow foregoing their short-lived routine in which Ichigo accompanied the lieutenant throughout the night. The next evening the vampire had walked right past his captive without so much as a look in Ichigo's direction and that night he'd done it again, only acknowledging the other's presence when wordlessly giving him food. Ichigo ate it because there was nothing else to do.

It was melodramatic for the orangette to feel spurned, that he was sure of, and yet he couldn't help the irritating sense of rejection that followed Grimmjow's disappearance through the canvas flap. So starved for any kind of interaction Ichigo actually kind of missed their bickering and the blunette calling him 'mutt.' Further unnerving himself, when Ichigo stumbled upon the officer's badge Grimmjow had discarded, he'd stashed it away in his jacket pocket.

Clearly he was losing his mind as he spent more time a prisoner of war dreading the beginning of Aizen's manipulations, whenever the egotistical bastard decided to get around to it.

Nevertheless, one thing Ichigo was grateful for was that Grimmjow no longer chained him to the ground. The captive wasn't sure if it meant he'd lost the drive to escape that he merely paced the inside of the tent because heavens knew he'd do anything to run far away from that den of overgrown parasites and return to his surrogate family, to feel secure or content again.

Maybe something was subconsciously keeping him there, a reason to stay...

Ichigo was sure the time was close to daybreak when he heard an unmistakable roaring boom, the ground beneath him quaking with vibrations. Immediately after there was shouting from all different directions and figuring he'd rather face his warden's wrath then be a sitting duck if the fort was under attack, Ichigo burst through the tent's opening and was instantly enveloped in chaos.

The air was thick with smoke and vampires were swarming everywhere at inhuman speeds but with his wolfish eyesight Ichigo could pinpoint where an explosion had detonated; the flames consuming the artillery tent blazing in the bluish light of early dawn. Some were trying to subdue the fire burning their weaponry but it was a lost cause, entirely consumed.

But who had done it? The Union troops were far away and Ichigo couldn't sense any of his kin nearby.

Standing out of the main path where vampires barrelling were only blurs of speed, the orangette contemplated his options. This was an opportunity to make a run for it, the explosion a big enough distraction that possibly no one would notice him slipping into the woods. However, considering his important role in Aizen's master plan, someone would soon be seeking him out.

Banishing his thoughts of whether a certain lieutenant would come back for him, Ichigo decided that he at least had to try.

Instead of using the main paths, the werewolf ran down the narrow spaces between tents as fast as his weakened body allowed. He headed towards the barely used secondary gateway, his best chance for escape. In a rare stroke of luck he managed to cross the aisles of canvas without incident, arriving at the gateway to stop short when he saw the wooden fence gate wide open.

Ichigo nearly pinched himself to ensure he wasn't dreaming before shaking his head. Turning his head he took one last look at the Night Division's campground, his chest inexplicably tightening with an emotion he couldn't name, and then dashed through the portal into the winter woods.

He hadn't taken ten steps when a steel band wrapped around his waist, the world tilting as his body was lifted into the air horizontally. The wind was knocked out of him as his abdomen fell onto something hard and the landscape barren trees began to pass by at an impossible rate.

It was all too familiar.

Ichigo didn't get the chance to demand whoever it was to put him down before they came to a sudden stop and he was dropped unceremoniously onto the ground. Looking up, his disoriented vision cleared to reveal a bright white, arrogant grin and gleaming cobalt eyes staring down at him.

"Told you that you wouldn't make it ten steps," Grimmjow said cockily.

Glaring at the lieutenant, Ichigo pushed himself off the ground. He opened his mouth to speak but forgot how when he saw they weren't back at the camp but in the woods with nothing but trees surrounding them. Grimmjow rolled his eyes and reached for the other's wrist, roughly pulling him around a massive oak tree where a pair of rucksacks lay at its base, one of them the werewolf recognized as the very one he'd been wearing when he'd been captured.

Ichigo jerked his wrist free from the vampire's grasp causing the latter to turn with an arched brow.

"Okay, what the hell is going on?" Ichigo demanded. "Why did you bring me all the way out here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Grimmjow said, frowning and bending over to snatch both rucksacks off the ground.

"No, it isn't!" Ichigo said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. However before the vampire could explain himself a feminine voice rang out through the woods.

"There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you, Lieutenant," it said and the orangette whipped his head in its direction to witness one of the Night Division's women step through the trees. Following after her were not only the rest of the female soldiers but the entire lot of children.

"Ain't a lieutenant anymore," Grimmjow said gruffly, withdrawing an impressive stack of paper money that he tossed the woman who'd greeted them. "It's all there so get going, the clouds will only be out 'till noon."

Simultaneously all of the women's faces twisted in confusion.

"You are no longer traveling to New Orleans with us?" one asked.

"Never said I was," Grimmjow said dismissively. He then faced Ichigo, holding out the rucksack emblazoned with the Union flag to him but the other didn't reach for it, utterly lost as to what was going on though he had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with the earlier explosion...

"Well then I suppose we should be going," a female vampire said haughtily, nose in the air as she spun on her heel, the other women copying her actions while guiding the children to do the same. The next second they had disappeared leaving Ichigo and Grimmjow alone.

A few long moments of silence passed in which the cogs in Ichigo's brain turned rapidly, pieces of the puzzle coming together.

"You were the one who blew up the artillery tent." A statement, not a question.

Grimmjow's face was bereft of emotion save for his sapphire eyes burning with intensity.

"I'll explain later. For now you'll just have to trust me," he said, again proffering the Union solider rucksack but Ichigo still did not reach for it.

"I don't have any reason to trust you," the orangette said softly never breaking their shared gaze.

"I know."

Ichigo chuckled bitterly and grabbed his old rucksack from Grimmjow's outstretched hand.

"I really have gone insane," he said slinging the mass of brown fabric over his shoulder, the weight more than he remembered but his strength was a fraction of what it used to be with the silver collar around his neck. "Can you at least tell me where we're going?"

"Afraid not," Grimmjow said with his signature smirk.

"Great," Ichigo sighed though for the first time since he'd been captured by the very vampire standing before him.

"There's just two last things I have to take care of," Grimmjow said, not allowing Ichigo to ask what before his hands shot out for the other's throat, their bodies a hand's breadth apart as Ichigo's breath hitched at the sudden, violent gesture.

A metallic snap sounded and the werewolf's eyes traveled downwards to see lying in broad hands his collar in two even pieces. Immediately a kind of vertigo racked through him for a moment, his vision swirling, until it was replaced by what Ichigo could only describe as bliss. No longer under the silver's influence his normal vigor returned full force, an invincible feeling.

Impulsively he smiled up at the vampire who'd both imprisoned and freed him.

"What's the other thing, then?" he said, never in a million years expecting what happened next.

"This."

Grimmjow's hands released the silver fragments to fist themselves into Ichigo's orange mane to close the distance between them. Ichigo gasped as the blunette's lips crashed onto his, too stunned to react until a spark of lightning ran through his veins and then, eyelids fluttering closed and hands grabbing onto the other's collar, he was thoroughly kissing Grimmjow back.

Their kiss was not gentle, it was rough and wild and fervent, all teeth and tongue. In the back of Ichigo's mind he wondered when he had ever developed feelings for his captor and why this vampire smelled so pleasantly of mint and rainwater but they were drowned out by an all-consuming euphoria.

Grimmjow broke the kiss, vexingly wearing a conceited grin and not even out of breath whereas Ichigo was panting even as he scowled up at the other.

"Shall we?" the vampire said and in a motion too fast to see for even the werewolf's eyes brought an arm under Ichigo's knees and back to hold him bridal style.

"What are you-? Put me down!"

"Not a chance, mutt."

Despite the orangettes protests they sped off through the trees, heading North.

Six months later Ichigo would look back on that moment as one of their very few lighthearted moments.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Ugh, I failed for taking so long with this but I really wanted to get it right.I know several of you have been asking when I would update this, so I tried to make it long and add a lot of detail. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed!

Next part will include the explanation as to what exactly Grimmjow is up to, as well as Ichigo's transformation and, as promised, some sexytiems.

_Suggested Listening: _(I really need to start remembering to put these in here...)

_Destroy All Vampires _- Legion of Doom

_Double Dare _- Bauhaus

_The Eternal _- Joy Division

_Falling Inside The Black _- Skillet

**Other news:**

***Note***: _At this point I am not accepting any more requests. I already have quite the list so far that I need to work on. ^^' I'm very sorry if this disappoints any of you and I didn't want to have to do this, really I didn't. But~ I most likely will start accepting them again sometime in the future._

Thanks so much to **TheJiminy **for being my 100th reviewer on Quixotic!


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